


Encounters: Shooting Star

by BlownAwayEveryday



Series: Encounters [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: After show frolics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Jim, Artist Freddie, Begins in Philadelphia, Birthday Party, Blow Jobs, Bubble Bath, Concerts, Cute, Day trips, Deaky has an accident, Declarations Of Love, Final show of the tour, First tour of the USA, Fluffy, Freddie and Jim are still very much in love, Freddie and Jim reunited, Freddie and Roger are still naughty, Freddie delirious, Freddie in a temper, Freddie is 21/22 years old, Freddie is a prisoner, Freddie is showered in gifts, Freddie meets Elton, Freddie sewing, Freddie very drunk, Funny, Handcuffs, Intrigue, Jim proposes, Jim shopping for Freddie, Jim stands up to John, Jim talks to sleeping Freddie, Joe becomes Freddie's chef, John Reid's POV, Kidnapped Freddie, Light BDSM, Lots of Sex, M/M, Mention of HIV, New York City, New York Party, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, Nurse Freddie, Period-Typical Homophobia, Playful Freddie, Police Raid, Poorly Boys, Poorly Jim, Pre show jitters, Racism, Reminiscent Freddie, Rimming, Set in 1972, Sex Swing, Smut.....it's Freddie....just smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Timeline is skewed, dark themes throughout, heartbroken boys, jim is 26, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-01-13 16:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 115,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlownAwayEveryday/pseuds/BlownAwayEveryday
Summary: Queen accompany Mott the Hoople on their first tour of America. As far as the world knows Jim Hutton is in attendance as Freddie’s personal assistant, but as all readers of Encounters know, Jim’s world spun off it’s axis the moment he clapped hands on our young shooting star.Encounters: Shooting Star follows the boys from dazzling city to city, exploring a new country, bright lights, enticing bars, high rises, new friends and old, but there’s a darker side – what if those amongst them have a hidden agenda? What if the greatest threat to Freddie and Jim’s love comes from within?





	1. Encounters: Shooting Star - That's Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovies! Well, it seems the boys didn’t stop chattering to me after I hung up my Encounters pen. In fact they are still wittering as we speak. I’m tempted to call a therapist 😊  
Shooting Star carries on from where Encounters finished. The boys are off on their first American tour in support of Mott the Hoople. They have been on the road some five weeks, so we catch up with them towards the end of the tour. The ‘script’ is still being written so please bear with me.  
Please don’t be put off reading Shooting Star if you haven’t read Encounters, it’s still available to read here on A03, or ask me about anything that confuses you at instagram.com/blownawayeveryday or blownawayeveryday.tumblr.com – I can talk all day about Freddie (and do!)  
Which brings me to the handful of lovely people who are on this journey with me – letting me know where I’ve got it right, popping me back on the realistic path when I get it wrong, sharing their own beautiful sketches, and innermost thoughts, and for simply keeping me company while I write – I can’t thank you enough xx  
Anyhow, I’ll stop waffling now, and hand you over to our boys. Tags will be updated as we go along, so please do check them lovies - I'd hate to do you an injury.

Jim was temporarily blinded as hushed darkness fell onto the stage.

The roar of the crowd could still be heard from the wings as Queen took their final bow, and the stage crew wrestled equipment into place for Mott’s imminent arrival.

Suddenly Jim was winded by a low flying object.

Freddie.

This had been Jim’s favourite night of the whole tour to date. If he could felt the buzz, then Freddie would surely be flying on the euphoria.

Which meant only one thing for Jim – a damn good fuck before the night was over.

“We did it!” Freddie shrieked, leaping into Jim’s arms.

Jim had barely time to recover his breath, before staggering under his lover’s slight, but unexpected weight.

“I could see the faces of the people in the front row.” That was Brian’s voice. “I had to focus all my attention on the guitar in case I passed out. I used to be able to hide behind my guitar….”

“Then you grew into a giraffe” interrupted Roger laughing. “I thought Fred would freeze when he saw all those faces.”

“Not likely….” boasted Freddie. “I struck a pose. I’m born for the stage darling.”

Jim chuckled. Freddie was still wearing his rock God persona. It suited him. The truth would come out later during their post coital cuddle.

“I still feel sick” mumbled Deaky. “Who’s ready for a beer?”

The boys all mumbled their agreement.

Jim quite fancied a beer himself, but it would have to wait.

The boys didn’t mind Jim drinking on the job, it went with the lifestyle, John Reid actively encouraged it, but Jim took his role seriously.

The fact that his charge was the man he loved more than life doubled the weight of his own responsibility.

No, he would get his turn when Freddie was showered, changed, and out with the lads.

Then Jim could remove his ‘assistant to the front man’ hat, and don his boyfriend one.

*********************

The queue of fans waiting outside The Tower Theatre had grown since the last venue, and the one before that.

Although small, as far as rock bands went - perhaps twenty to twenty five people - Jim felt he would soon need an extra pair of hands, a trained bodyguard for Freddie. Someone who knew what they were looking for in a crowd.

Student night at The Market Tavern hadn’t nearly prepared Jim for this.

It seemed America loved Queen more than their home crowd.

Jim was also concerned that the persona Freddie portrayed on stage was so different to his natural self, that he was often overwhelmed by the type of people he attracted.

Walking with his eyes to the ground, Freddie was inherently shy, and found it difficult to talk to people he didn’t know, some of which were aggressively demanding of his attention.

The crowd were being held behind a rope, but Jim made sure to walk on the side nearest to them.

They would have to get around him to get to Freddie.

“Freddie….Freddie…over here…”

“Will you please sign my…..”

“Sign my boob…”

An arm crept around Jim’s waist trying to grab at Freddie’s outstretched hand.

Jim couldn’t hold all of them back, but he could guard his mark.

Stepping in front of Freddie, Jim drew himself up tall, and took a wide stance.

A group of teenage girls tried to peer around Jim.

Bless them, he thought, they lived in hope.

Jim remembered how that had felt.

Waiting in the wings, praying for the day that Freddie would see him – really see him.

It was just weeks since his dream had come true, and Freddie had finally fallen into his arms.

Jim remembered his own mother’s reaction when Freddie had told the tale of how they had become a couple.

How an ogre had punched poor Freddie in the eye, and he had run away and hid, and Jim had knocked down the door to save him.

The only things missing were a tower, and a unicorn.

Nothing was mentioned about domestic violence, or filthy club toilet floors.

Jim remembered the events of that evening somewhat differently, but the pertinent facts were there.

There was shouting in the crowd, and a number of fans started to stumble. A young girl – perhaps twelve – held out an album sleeve towards Freddie, when someone tripped her from behind. The album hit Jim’s chest with a resounding and comical thwack.

Despite the sound of the throng, Jim could hear a giggle. It was uncanny how he could always sense Freddie, no matter how loud the environment.

Jim felt a gentle hand on his forearm, and turned to a pair of enormous laughing eyes.

Jim chuckled, he couldn’t help himself. He knew what Freddie was going to say, he was being too keen again.

“Too much?” Jim whispered with a smile.

“Just a tad” Freddie smiled, taking the album from the girl. “What’s your name honey?”

“Elizabeth” said the girl shyly.

Freddie returned the signed album with a smile. “I’m sorry about my very tense friend here Ms Taylor, he needs a beer” said Freddie, granting the young girl the name of the famous actress – something he would become known for much later in life.

Jim’s mind slipped back to the conversation they’d had the night before in their hotel room with the lads.

“You’ve got to let me grow darling!” Freddie had slurred, his arms outstretched dramatically from the seat he occupied - Jim’s lap.

“You care, and that’s very sweet, but I promised my fans that I would give them my time” Freddie had declared regally, as though holding court.

It had seemed the perfect time to top up his champagne flute.

Unfortunately, the result was a royal headache for Freddie – nothing like the hangover he had suffered after drinking all day with Bill Reid – but sufficient enough to reduce him to crawling into Jim’s arms begging to be pampered.

It would seem that Jim’s growing fledgling was still in need of a little nurturing from time to time.

*************************

Queen’s after parties would become legend, but for now John Reid was hosting a small but rowdy group of circus performers outside in the grounds of the venue.

Jugglers, uni cyclists, and alleged fire-eaters…although evidence of this was yet to be seen.

A number of fans had made their way around the back, and were being greeted jovially by staff handing out free bubbly and beer. It seemed the entertainment was just getting started for those that hadn’t been able to procure tickets for the show.

Freddie and Jim made their way around the back of the building when Freddie stopped abruptly, shrieked, and clapped his hands excitedly.

The focus of his attention - a large pool filled with green jelly.

Jim loved this playful side to Freddie.

The part that was still five years old.

The part of him that shrieked with joy at a pool full of jelly - desperate to get up to his neck in it, but not quite daring.

Mischief shone from his face.

Freddie glanced left and right, then he turned to Jim chewing his nail. “Come in with me” he begged softly.

Jim laughed out loud. “Not a chance sweetheart. If I get in there, all the jelly will get out. Go on…. I know you’re dying to.”

Jim watched Freddie deliberate, and wondered which side of his character would win – the timid, or the bold.

Jim wondered if it would be considered an acceptable part of his role as personal assistant to lift Freddie bodily into a pool full of goo, perhaps placing a chaste kiss to his temple would go unnoticed.

Jim chuckled out loud.

He was dreaming.

This was America!

“What?” Freddie asked grinning from ear to ear.

“Nothing!” Jim laughed, leaning closer as he whispered “I’m just thinking about what I’d like to do to you in there.”

Freddie turned to Jim, eyes wide, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

Jim laughed nudging him “Come on sweetheart in you get.”

Several bare breasted women held their hands out to help Freddie into the pool. “Come on! Don’t be a chicken” they cajoled.

Freddie didn’t dare, he turned back to Jim but he wasn’t allowed to touch him here.

“Awww he’s scared” cooed the women, falling in love a little.

“Shit no, that’s Freddie Mercury! He’s not scared of fuck all” yelled a man from behind the pool, grabbing the shoulder of his friend with a video camera, swinging him around to face Freddie.

As if summoned, Roger came around the corner.

“Roger, Rog!” Freddie and Jim shouted in unison, Freddie frantically waving him over.

“You have to get in there with me now” demanded Freddie, swinging his eyes wildly towards the cameraman.

Roger looked at the pool and grinned. It wasn’t the jelly that had caught his attention, it was the large naked breasts of a blonde women.

“I don’t, but you can” Roger said seizing Freddie and tipping him over the edge. Freddie squealed and grabbed Roger, both of them laughing as they hit the squelchy jelly.

Jim laughed out loud attracting the attention of the crowd, John Reid, and the cameraman who started filming the two men faux wrestling in the jelly.

John rolled his eyes, but grinned ear to ear. This was fantastic publicity for his latest signing.

The women in the pool suddenly finding themselves temporarily relieved of the attention, gathered around Freddie and Roger, and smothered the play fighting men in jelly.

Jim noticed a young man push his way forward to see what was going on.

He too looked scared to get into the pool by himself.

The young man didn’t take his eyes off Freddie, and Jim wondered if that was the expression he also wore when he gazed at the man he loved.

****************************

“Do you see that man over there?” Freddie pointed discreetly to a young man standing alone beside the pool, also distracting Roger sufficiently to smear jelly in his ear.

Roger nodded, and picked up a large handful of jelly and rubbed it in Freddie’s face.

“He freaks me out” said Freddie, wiping jelly from his eyes. “He’s following us. He was at Denver and Kansas, Memphis, and Boston. He’s got really scary dark eyes.” Freddie shuddered.

“You’ve got really scary dark eyes!” Roger laughed. “Sorry - I forgot - you’re gorgeous” he mocked.

Freddie punched Roger’s shoulder playfully, knocking him off his feet once more, and into the jelly.

Freddie squealed as Roger pulled him down with him.

The pair bobbed back up wiping jelly from their eyes, and mouths.

“Seriously though Fred, if you’re worried, mention it to Jim” continued Roger.

Freddie laughed “I can’t tell Jim! He’ll go all psycho boyfriend on him. He just cock blocked a pre-teen with an album.” Freddie wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

Roger laughed “That’s Jim’s job! As your security man I mean….” Roger rolled his eyes “…God, who’d want to babysit you.”

“Allegedly he loves me” Freddie said indignantly, with a slight blush creeping across his cheeks.

“No Fred – I think he actually does love you!” said Roger, pointing at Jim. “Look at that big dopey expression on his face – that’s love” stated Roger confidently, rolling his eyes when Jim gave them a little wave.

Giggling Freddie launched himself at Roger, knocking him onto his back as the crowd cheered once more.


	2. Encounters: Shooting Star - Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New country, new people, new opportunities…..but is that all? Freddie is an eye ball magnet, but just who is watching him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely messages yesterday lovies 😊 😊 Such a nice welcome back

Jamie narrowed his eyes, and scanned the jelly pool for Freddie.

Freddie stands out in any crowd, and Jamie spotted him quickly.

He was wrestling with a friend.

Freddie was smiling. Laughing. He was luminous.

Shiny black hair – now covered in jelly – eyes like dark pools of chocolate shining with joy and fun.

Freddie was a glorious piece of artwork, and Jamie wanted to display him in his home.

He grimaced with envy.

Freddie had everything.

He was beautiful, talented, confident and popular.

Jamie would kill for a friend like Freddie.

If he had a friend like Freddie, his life too would have purpose.

Jamie discretely surveyed the competition.

The friend in the pool had Freddie’s time and attention, but he was a crap friend.

Jamie could see him glancing longingly at the naked women. Tongue almost hanging out, he wasn’t giving Freddie the attention he deserved at all.

The friend wasn’t Jamie’s real competition though.

The man standing beside the pool was the real competition – the minder.

He wasn’t looking at Freddie like his employer, no, his gaze was that of a lover.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Freddie’s beautiful body.

He had seen the minder’s hand come out to touch him, and then be withdrawn as though remembering where he was.

Homosexuals – both of them – a couple maybe.

Not for long.

Not once Jamie showed Freddie that he was the centre of his entire world.

Jamie felt a little sorry for the minder - but only a little – he didn’t deserve to be with Freddie.

The friend moved away leaving Freddie on his own.

Jamie watched Freddie’s face for a moment.

Rolling his eyes, and giggling to himself as the friend attempted to ingratiate himself into a group of topless women.

Didn’t Freddie’s friend appreciate what he had just given up for those sluts?

Those women were a waste of time, a pointless distraction, when he had the rarest jewel of all.

Jamie focused his attention on Freddie’s eyes.

Such innocence.

Nothing like he seemed on stage. It was all an act.

Jamie knew the real man inside.

He was an angel.

A rare painting to be collected.

A doll to cherish… and this was his opportunity to collect.

Jamie crouched poolside, and sank his hand into the jelly inches from Freddie’s hair.

How badly he wanted to climb into the pool beside him.

How he wanted the perfect witty line to pop into his head, but all he could hear were his father’s words; “You’re gutless. You’ll never amount to anything. Who would want to be your friend?! You mess up everything you touch.”

Jamie screwed his eyes up tightly, and repeatedly slapped his head with the palm of his hand, attempting to knock the voice out of it.

He opened his eyes, and his opportunity had passed.

A man…a man much older than Freddie had casually sidled up, and trapped him against the wall of the pool.

Huddled close, a hand either side of Freddie, gripping tightly to the pool wall. Talking close to his face.

Jamie took a couple of steps back, changing position to get a better view.

Freddie did not look happy. In fact, he appeared to be frozen with fear.

Jamie perused the man. Memorising his face. He would catch up with him later.

Jamie followed the line of the man’s body with his eyes, to where he appeared to have Freddie pinned to the pool wall with his body.

How dare he?! Freddie belonged to him!

A movement out of the corner of his eye brought the minder into view.

He couldn’t see fuck all from where he was standing – he wasn’t caring for Freddie at all.

Jamie needed to take Freddie away from all this – and quickly before he was damaged.

Jamie wanted him perfect, and whole, and all his.

Jamie looked at the minder again, and slowly made his way towards him.

It was time he got a formal introduction.

***************************

Jim swayed from foot to foot trying to get a better view of Freddie from the poolside.

All he could see was the back of the man that Freddie was talking to, but his instincts were on fire.

Jim didn’t like it when he couldn’t see Freddie clearly in a crowd situation.

He forced himself to relax. He knew what Freddie would say – too much!

“Ex-excuse me.”

Jim turned when he heard a timorous voice. So quiet he hadn’t realised he was being spoken to at first.

“Can I help you?” Jim asked, mildly annoyed at having been distracted from watching Freddie.

“Freddie is in trouble” the man stated less than confidently. “That man has…” his cheeks coloured brightly “…that man is touching him, and Freddie doesn’t like it.”

Jim moved like a starting gun had been fired, boldly striding towards Freddie, but the crowd got in his way.

He looked down at the jelly, the pool was the quickest way to Freddie, but the cameraman was still trained on them, and Freddie would be mortified if Jim made a scene.

His job was to be ever present - and invisible.

Jim looked up and saw Roger entertaining the ladies.

He cupped a hand around his mouth, and yelled for Roger.

His calls went unheard.

So did jumping up and down, and waving ferociously.

Jim cupped his hands again, and bellowed “Roger Meddows Taylor”

Everyone looked around - including John Reid and the cameraman - and thankfully Roger, who looked horrified, as though expecting to see his mother poolside.

Jim gestured vehemently towards Freddie with his head.

Roger looked over and rolled his eyes, frustrated at having been interrupted, but he did slowly make his way back to Freddie.

Jim didn’t see what happened next, but he heard it; a shout, a growl, a slap…..then it was jelly wars.

Perhaps America is not all that different to the Market Tavern were Jim’s last thoughts, before wading into the jelly.


	3. Encounters: Shooting Star - Transparency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie’s carefree attitude to his new environment distresses those closest to him, and sends Jim spiraling back into uncomfortable territory.   
Jamie wants to know a little too much about his new friends.  
Freddie puts an unexpected gift on his birthday wish list….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jamie – Friend or foe lovies?

“When he yelled, I thought he was fucking jealous…” Roger stabbed his thumb towards Jim, his face screwed up small and angry, sticky and grubby. “Why the fuck didn’t you scream, or punch him you idiot?”

Freddie was dancing alongside the two angry men - and the stranger – just to keep up.

“You’re over reacting darling” Freddie said soothingly, hoping to transfuse some calm into his friend. “I didn’t expect you to punch him. He would have moved along eventually.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you punch him?! That’s what I want to know.” Roger’s voice was rising again.

Freddie gave up trying to keep up, and squeezed his hand into Jim’s, hoping Jim’s long legs would do the work.

“We’re famous dear! We can’t very well punch everyone who gets close to us. I’ve had my hair pulled out of my head four times this week already by passing fans. People WANT to touch us” Freddie reasoned.

Jim shook his head violently, struggling for calm. “No darling, you’ve got it wrong” he said gently stroking Freddie’s hand with his thumb.

“Not your fucking privates!” screeched Roger.

Jim was officially in hell.

Torn between wanting to shake Freddie violently, instilling the danger and the fear that had taken root in his own gut after what he had just witnessed, and wanting to hold him close, squeeze him small until he was fully protected from life.

It always came back to those damn letters.

No good had arisen from Jim reading them.

He carried a secret, a secret so heavy that it weighed down his heart, and dulled his mind with confusion.

A secret he couldn’t discuss with Freddie, or anyone else.

A secret that popped to the surface in scenarios such as these – situations in which Freddie found himself – and appeared to have no resistance to.

A secret that was rooted in the fear that perhaps Freddie didn’t realise that he had the choice to say no.

Didn’t know that his body belonged to him, and him only.

Didn’t have to tolerate being made to feel uncomfortable by other people’s desires.

In the absence of his parents, who had pulled Freddie aside as a teen and told him what was inappropriate.

Where was the line in the sand?

Was there even one drawn?

Had promiscuity been confused with an inability to say no? Not in every situation, but in some of the more suspect.

The content of the letters were useless unless Jim could use them to help Freddie. He couldn’t, instead he was haunted by them.

“No one has the right to touch you without your permission honey” Jim said softly, squeezing Freddie’s hand, fearful of the memories that might be evoked.

Freddie smiled broadly, and poked his fingers in Jim’s ribs. “You ARE jealous” he sang.

Freddie was consumed with a desire for Jim to be jealous, so much so that Jim barely corrected him if it was suggested it could be the case– on this occasion though - Roger did.

“No one Freddie….no one has the fucking right …not even Jim!” Roger growled, and Freddie suddenly felt as though he was back in the kitchen in Kensington, refereeing Roger and Bill Reid. “You’ve just been fucking assaulted you idiot!”

Jim raised a hand in Roger’s direction.

He shared Roger’s frustration, but Freddie was handling this remarkably well, and upsetting him wasn’t the goal.

“He’s right sweetheart” Jim said gently. “I always ask you don’t I – if you’re ok, if it’s alright - I always give you the opportunity to say no.”

“Yep” Freddie wrinkled up his nose cutely. “I always thought that was one of your funny little insecurity things.”

Jim chuckled at the irony, but his heart was heavy.

Had no other partner ever allowed Freddie the same courtesy?

“Erm….sorry for causing all this trouble” said a small voice from behind them.

Jim had forgotten Jamie was there, and suddenly felt extremely rude.

He stopped walking abruptly, nearly pulling Freddie’s arm out of joint, and turned towards Jamie.

“I’m so sorry Jamie!”

Jim turned to Freddie “Freddie, this is Jamie. Jamie is the one who came to me when you were in trouble.”

Freddie turned to appraise Jamie, and with an uncharacteristic coolness said “Thank you very much. I appreciate your concern.”

***********************

The mood lightened considerably on the walk back to the hotel.

Freddie was wearing his ivory ‘Messenger of the Gods’ costume, which had become considerably more transparent when smothered in jelly.

Jim had pulled Freddie’s hand towards the bulge in his own jeans, showing him the effect the jelly smothered costume had on him.

The costume related issue became more apparent when the boys were standing in the brightly lit reception area of the hotel, waiting for the lift.

A woman clutched tightly to her husband’s arm, getting as much of an eyeful as she could, while tottering out of the lift on ridiculous heels.

Roger doubled over with laughter, tears streaming from him eyes.

When everyone thought he had recovered, Roger slapped his thigh and set off laughing again, this time pointing at Freddie.

He didn’t think he would ever stop laughing.

Jamie couldn’t take his eyes from Freddie’s face, and Jim sensed an odd atmosphere between the two men.

Freddie was reserved, but always warm and polite, and Jim hadn’t expected the coolness with which Freddie greeted Jamie – especially considering he had helped him out of trouble.

Freddie was uncomfortable with Jamie’s scrutiny – Jim could sense that.

Freddie didn’t like people to look at him at any other time than when he was on the stage.

Freddie poked a finger through the back of Jim’s belt loop, and ducked behind him.

The harsh lighting of the lift emphasised the dark make up around Freddie’s eyes, and Jim surmised it was probably just that.

Jamie seemed young, perhaps he hadn’t seen a man wearing make-up before.

Perhaps he had never met a rock star before either.

Truth be told, Freddie sometimes still had that effect on Jim.

*********************

The group of men tumbled into Freddie and Jim’s suite to the shrill sound of the telephone.

Jim dropped Freddie’s bags onto the sofa, and rushed to pick it up.

“Hello” he said with his best telephone voice.

Screening Freddie’s calls was a task that had recently been added to Jim’s duties.

“What’s that Ma - you want to speak to Freddie? Not to your small town son who called you earlier today all the way from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA?” Jim was glancing at Freddie with a smile.

Jim’s mum adored Freddie. To the point that she had told his aunt that it was like having a little one again – Jim had grown up so quickly.

Freddie leapt up from the sofa gesturing to Jim to hand him the phone.

Jim rolled his eyes with a soft smile. “Ok, ok, I’ll put Freddie on.”

“Hello Mrs Hutton, how are you today?” Freddie purred sweetly into the receiver, smiling innocently at Jim.

“Yes, the show is going very well thank you. Every night…yes it is a lot, but Queen only do the support set at the beginning, so we can’t take any credit for the success of the tour. Sorry we weren’t here to take your call earlier, we’ve been playing in a big vat of jelly – apart from dear Jim – yes, he is, he’s so dependable. Yes, he looks after me very well, Mrs Hutton, thank you. Yes, it’s my birthday next weekend. Yes, Jim promised me my very own kitten ….”

Jim’s jaw dropped to his knees, while his eyebrows skimmed the hotel room ceiling.

“….Oh, I don’t know what he has in mind, perhaps a little black one” Freddie continued. “I can’t very well have a kitten on tour, so he’ll have to surprise me when we get back…” Freddie fixed his eyes on Jim “….if he still loves me then.”

Jim shook his fist at Freddie, but his face was beaming. That little schemer!

“….do you think so Mrs Hutton? I really do hope he does….oh….are you going to tell him?” Freddie poked his tongue out at Jim.

“Anyway Mrs Hutton, it’s been lovely talking to you, but Jim’s shaking his fist at me, so I’d better hand you back over before he catches me.”

Freddie handed the phone to Jim, and tried to make a run for it, but Jim was faster, snaking a long arm around his waist, and pining him to his body, tickling him mercilessly.

Squealing and writhing, Freddie tried desperately to escape the steel vice that was wrapped around him.

“Yes Ma, I do tell Freddie I love him – a lot – at least once a day – no, he has no reason to doubt it. I might well murder him when I get off this call though.”

Freddie has stopped squirming and was nipping little kisses up Jim’s neck, and behind the ear that was holding the receiver.

A hand worked its way down Jim’s stomach, and over his crotch, squeezing the growing hardness there.

“Ma! Ma, sorry but I have to go. Ma….please can I stop you there…” Jim’s voice cracked with passion. “Ma…duty calls….yes I love you too. Yes….Ma I have to go,” Jim hung up, and turned to Freddie.

Freddie raised one eyebrow “Duty? Duty? Is that what this is?”

Jim pushed Freddie forcefully into the wall. Snatching a fiery, passionate kiss. Pushing his hips hard into Freddie’s, the thin layer of satiny fabric doing nothing to mask his arousal.

“For fucks sake” groaned Roger. “If you two are gonna fuck I’ll get ready for tonight in my own room. Come on Jamie.”

Freddie and Jim had forgotten he and Jamie were there.

They broke apart quickly, and Freddie headed for the bathroom, but not before noticing that Jamie was staring at him.

“Wait…” Jamie said quietly, one finger poised in the air. “Are you two both…gay?”


	4. Encounters: Shooting Star - Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Jim FINALLY get some time to themselves away from cameras and prying eyes – but are they truly alone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies our favourite couple are still all squidgy and adorable 😊…and very much in lust!

Steam from the shower had already filled the bathroom when Freddie heard the door open.

He had peeled his jelly covered costume down his arms to his waist, and was just about to pull it over his hips when he felt a strong arm wrap around him, pinning him firmly to a hard muscular chest.

He allowed his head to roll back onto Jim’s shoulder, exposing his neck to Jim’s lips, as he felt teeth graze lightly at the skin, bruising him with pleasure.

Jim’s passion had intensified on tour, and short snatches of private time meant he often took Freddie fast and hard.

Their time in each other’s arms was limited by duty – shows, media, publicity, never being sure when a camera might be pointed at them.

Freddie was terrified of his family finding out that he was gay, and although Jim often found it frustrating, he respected Freddie’s wishes.

So little of his existence was private anymore, and that would only get worse as the bands fame and popularity grew.

“I’ve wanted you all day little one” Jim growled into Freddie’s ear.

Freddie was already becoming weak with arousal, and was grateful for Jim holding him up.

He felt the blood rushing up and down his body simultaneously.

Felt his cock becoming hard.

Breathing becoming more difficult.

“I want you so bad” he whimpered into Jim’s temple, as the nips continued along his collarbone.

Freddie loved it when Jim marked him.

It gave him the rougher, ravaged look he liked to have on stage, but it was also a little reminder every time he looked in the mirror that somebody wanted him – really wanted him.

Jim shuffled Freddie’s jelly soaked costume and underwear over his hips to his knees, leaving a slick trail in its wake.

That was all the access he needed.

Freddie felt the hand skim over the fluttering muscle of his stomach, and finish its journey firmly around his cock.

He gasped at the sensation, as Jim began to stroke firmly, slowly at first, before gaining speed.

Freddie had no time to breath. No break from the delicious sensations that unfolded steadily in his stomach.

Freddie’s mouth fell open as his lips sought skin. Grappling to find lips, an ear lobe, anything he could clamp his lips to.

He could hear his own gasps become groans as Jim stroked faster than his mind could comprehend, hitting every sensitive spot on the way.

The firmness of the arm around his waist a God send, as his knees became too weak to fully support him.

He heard himself shout as his orgasm was pulled violently from him. Rivers of sensation running freely over him body, his mind a blur.

Panting, he slowly came back to his senses, a tired smile, he couldn’t quite open his eyes.

Jim had done it to him again.

He heard a deep chuckle in his ear and felt an oddly gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Are you safe on your legs sweetheart?” he heard Jim ask lovingly, slowly removing the support of his arm, making sure Freddie could stand unaided.

He was spun quickly towards Jim and warm soft lips pressed against his, in a heart melting kiss.

He loved this man so much.

Loved the way Jim made him feel – desirable and cherished all at the same time. It confused him, but he couldn’t deny he liked it.

Disorientated by desire, he was spun away just as quickly, and felt a sharp tap on his buttocks.

“Get in the shower you sexy little man” Jim growled, nipping at the skin of his neck one last time. “I’ll get you a fresh towel.”

**********************

Jim whistled as he left the hot steamy bathroom.

The contrasting chill of the living area made him shiver, but he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face.

It satisfied him deeply when he could satisfy Freddie.

He would give Freddie a little time. Allow him to shower and get clean, then he would dirty him all over again.

Jim stopped sharp when he saw dark eyes staring at him from the sofa.

He thought Jamie had left with Roger.

He looked a little pale.

“Is Fr-Freddie alright?” he stammered “I heard him cry.”

Jim felt his own face drain of colour, angered that they were being overheard. He wondered what business it was of Jamie’s what he and Freddie did in their own suite.

“Yes, Freddie is fine Jamie.” Jim snapped a little quickly. “He’s having a quick shower, then we’ll head out.”

"Roger, Brian, Deaky and the Mott boys are heading downtown for a few drinks, would you like to join us?” Jim heard his voice soften. He couldn’t stay angry for long – especially as Jamie had been so helpful to him and Freddie today.

Jamie nodded. “If that’s ok?” he stammered. “I would like that. I think Freddie and I could be good friends.”

“Right….” Jim hesitated. So far Freddie had made no sign of wanting to befriend this man.

“Sure. Listen, you might be more comfortable next door with Roger while we get ready though. Room 242, to the right. Just give him a knock…..in fact no, he can be quite loud with his records, I’ll give him a quick call and let him know to expect you.”

Jamie remained seated.

“Off you pop then. Next door….we’ll see you in about half an hour….actually make that an hour…we are talking about Freddie” Jim chuckled humourlessly.

Jim followed Jamie to the door, and locked it behind him.

An odd one that one.

Nice enough – very helpful with Freddie today – but that didn’t stop Jim wondering if the chill down his spine was really from the lack of steam.


	5. Encounters: Shooting Star - Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is awoken suddenly when Freddie is having a nightmare – the worst he has seen so far.   
Freddie is trapped in a terrifying head space. Can Jim reach him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies this is dark – I am so sorry ☹ - please keep one eye on the tags

A scream.

Jim leapt into the air, and fumbled for the lamp on his bedside cabinet, missing it, and knocking an almost full glass of water to the floor with a crash.

The room span.

Everything was out of focus, and Jim felt every last drop of the ale he had consumed on their night out with Mott.

He looked down the length of his body, trying to gather his swimming senses.

Jim could almost see Freddie’s raven head bobbing up and down where he had last been before sleep. Lips hot and wet around his cock as Freddie had driven him over the edge with that clever tongue.

Freddie had been pleasantly drunk, but not inebriated like nights of old.

Contented and comfortable in a late night bar. Getting to know those new around him, initiating conversation, huddling close to those he already knew and trusted.

Freddie has been reserved and dignified that evening. Smiley and flirtatious. Coquettish and playful. Discreetly and respectfully never letting go of his lover’s arm.

Jim had felt like a million dollars.

It occurred to him then that it hadn’t all been a dream, and he wasn’t at home in London.

The bone chilling sound came again.

Freddie was sitting bolt upright.

His arms were tightly wrapped around his knees, which were pulled towards his chest.

His eyes were squeezed shut against a horror that was invisible to Jim.

The screams came louder, and in quick succession.

Jim had calmed Freddie from nightmares before. This time no part of him was in the here and now.

Freddie was fast asleep, and deep in his own personal hell.

Jim tentatively wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Preparing to be pelted in punches, or pushed violently away, until the moment of recognition came.

The moment of relief when Freddie realised he was being held by Jim, and not restrained by the revulsions of his past.

The instant the two men would look deeply into each other’s eyes, communicate their love, and settle back down, wrapped tightly around each other until morning - or sleep - whichever came first.

This time Jim’s movement galvanised Freddie into action. Springing from the bed, he ran across the room, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Jim followed him hastily, staggering slightly as his legs struggled to make sense of their owners sudden need for action.

He grabbed for the door handle a fraction of a second too late, as the bolt was draw across with a loud click.

Jim knocked gently “Freddie….Freddie sweetheart, can you unlock the door please so I can help you?”

Silence rang from within the room, and if Jim hadn’t just seen Freddie go into the bathroom, he would be convinced that he too was dreaming.

Jim slumped down onto the floor, his back pressed against the wall, the flat of his palm against the bathroom door.

It was going to be a long night.

*************************

Freddie raised his head slowly, allowing only his eyes to show above his knees which were pulled close to his chest.

The dark room was unfamiliar to him, and Freddie felt lost.

As his eyes adjusted, he could see the outline of a mirror, making the room appear cavernous.

He continued to look around the dark room, trying to identify a means of escape. A way out that was different to the way he had come in.

Suddenly he became aware of heat on his back. It was burning, and Freddie yelped, jumping up, then catching onto the sink quickly to prevent his fall.

There was a loud crash, and Freddie dropped instantly to the floor.

He couldn’t allow himself to be found.

They couldn’t know where he was.

His life depended on it.

He couldn’t do it again.

Freddie listened intently for the sound of footsteps, not even daring to breath. Moments passed, and there was quiet from outside.

He cursed his own stupidity for making so much noise.

One hand scrambled silently across the floor for the item that had made the sound, and his fingers curled around the handle of his razor.

He drew the razor up to his face, squinting at the blade for some time, the way it glinted in the odd snatch of light.

He could do it.

He could stop it all right now.

The fear, the pain, going back there again and again and again.

It wouldn’t take long.

It would probably hurt less.

He would just go to sleep in the end.

A dreamless sleep.

A sleep where the shadows of old wouldn’t rise to greet him.

The room swam before his eyes.

He ran the blade over his finger, pressing down hard and seeing the blood pooling quickly on his fingertip.

It tickled.

The razor wouldn’t cut deep enough.

He would need to get the blade out of the cartridge.

Freddie began to pull at the plastic, trying desperately to free the blade.

He paused.

He was making too much noise.

The banging on the door was becoming more insistent, they knew he was here, he had to do it – and he had to do it quickly.

Blood trickled from his fingertips as he struggled with the cartridge, the blade edge cutting into his fingers in his desperation.

The knock came again, this time accompanied by a voice. “Sweetheart…what you’re feeling, it’s not real, I promise. You’re safe, there’s only you and I here. Wherever you think you are, it’s just a dream.”

Freddie froze, it wasn’t working, the blade would not come out.


	6. Encounters: Shooting Star - Milk and Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim remains unaware of the depth of Freddie’s despair, as the bathroom door stands between them.   
After employing every persuasion tactic he has to get Freddie to come out of the bathroom, Jim remembers – he took action in London to pre-empt situations such as these….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby ☹ ☹

The door rattled in its frame.

“Freddie. I don’t want to, but I can break this door down,” Jim said sternly.

He was trying to be strong.

Trying to show authority.

Trying to gain some control over the situation, but he couldn’t help the crack in his voice as it trembled with uncertainty.

“You’ve seen me do it before, but I really don’t want to. I want you to come out on your own please,” he said with a firmer voice. Reluctant even as he spoke to carry on in this vein, scared of the effect his tone might have on the listener. Anxious that any sign of irritation would driving him deeper into the darkness.

Jim pressed his ear harder to the door as he heard whispered words.

“I can’t get away. I can never get away” Freddie whimpered to himself.

Jim sighed heavily, as he slouched silently against the door, testing it’s resistance.

“You DID get away honey” he insisted, his voice more gentle now.

“You’re touring America. You’re the lead singer in an exciting new rock band. You’re in your hotel room. You’ve had a bad dream, and locked yourself in the bathroom. Please come out baby so I can look after you,” Jim insisted.

Freddie wrapped his arms over his head.

Was it a trick?

Telling him such amazing, fantastic things about his life?

Duping him into revealing his hiding place.

“You can’t help me” yelled Freddie. “Go away.” His voice appearing younger somehow, as though he had regressed into a childhood place in his head.

“I promise you Freddie…” the gentle voice insisted earnestly. “I can make you feel better.”

Several moments passed in silence, before Jim started to speak again.

He couldn’t abide the silence.

It was seconds wasted.

Seconds he could use to re-connect with Freddie.

To regain his trust, and infuse the spark of warmth, joy and passion back into him. The very essence that made Freddie himself.

Every word Jim spoke was a step closer to bringing him back.

A fact or two, a feeling, a memory, designed to reunite Freddie with his truth, and loosen the nightmare’s grip on him.

“We had such a wonderful evening darling.”

Silence.

“You know, I never stop being surprised by you… how you have welcomed me into your life. How you introduce me to all your friends and colleagues in such a way that they are also so warm towards me. I know that they don’t know what we really are to each other darling, but I’ve never had that kind of acceptance before. I’ve always been the gay boy from Ireland. The outsider. The staff. The hired help. I know there have been times in your life when you have been made to feel like that too sweetheart, but not with me. You come first in my life Freddie, and I would really like to help you.”

Freddie slowly opened his eyes.

He could make out a basin, a toilet, and a shower. The heat to his back was a radiator.

There was blood smeared on his leg from open cuts on his fingers.

Freddie suddenly felt very cold, and exposed.

The knock came again.

“Freddie….please….”

“J-Jim? Is that you?” Freddie asked tentatively, not sure how he had got to where he was.

“Yes, darling, I’m here, just waiting for you to open the door, so I can get you.”

Freddie could hear the smile in Jim’s voice.

His eyes fixed on the razor, and he quickly stashed it under his thigh, like a child expecting to be caught with it in his hand at any moment.

He couldn’t let Jim see it.

Jim would worry.

Jim would be cross with him.

The spoilt little rock star who had it all.

Jim wouldn’t want to be with somebody who was this much trouble.

Waking him up in the night, it was shameful.

Freddie quickly threw the damaged razor into the waste basket, hiding it underneath some tissue.

“I think Mott are a little in awe of you darling.” Jim continued, trying to colour his fearful voice with a smile. “Sure they rib you and make fun – you’re the new kid on the block – but I was watching them yesterday when you were talking to Deaky about how to make best use of the lights, they were really listening, you know. Like they were trying to learn from you darling.”

A heart beat….maybe two…

“Tonight was fun. I never saw myself as someone cool enough to hang out with a rock band before, not even when I was twenty-one. Everybody loves you Freddie. Jamie is enamoured with you in his dark brooding way. Have I got competition?” Jim chuckled. “Not on the dance floor though hey honey, he’s not very coordinated.”

Three…..four….

“If I could express one wish, I would wish you wouldn’t do coke though sweetheart. I’m not going to harp on. You don’t do it much…yet…but that stuff is unpredictable, and you don’t need it. You’re fun and bubbly without it, and I hope that one day your confidence will grow, and you will see that for yourself.”

Jim’s voice took on a lighter tone. “That said, no judgement sweetie - whatever you need to help you leave your place in the bathroom and come on back to me. Shall I order you a vodka? What about Roger? Shall I go get Roger in here? He always makes you laugh – maybe he has weed?”

Five…..six…..

“.....warm milk….warm milk with honey?” Jim continued, clutching at straws when Freddie didn’t respond at all.

Then it came.

“What the fuck would I want that for?” Freddie muttered, and despite the situation Jim laughed out loud.

Freddie was biting, it was just a matter of time.

“Has no one ever given you warm milk when you couldn’t sleep?” Jim asked incredulously. “Not even as a child?”

The minute it was out of his mouth, Jim could have beaten himself blue. Something told him that nightly comfort stops with soothing drinks and cuddles hadn’t been part of the St Peter’s Curriculum.

He needed something better, something to lure Freddie out with.

The perfect image popped into his head.

“I packed your blanket… shortly before we left London. It’s in my rucksack. Come on out, we’ll get you warmed up and comfortable and I promise you’ll be feel better.”

“You have my blanket?” Freddie asked shyly. “My blanket ….from home?”

“I do” Jim smiled. “I’ll go get it now, and if you unlock the door I’ll pass it through to you. Is that a deal?” Jim asked hopefully.

“You would withhold my blanket if I don’t open the door?” the humour was creeping into Freddie’s voice.

“Yep….I’m that cruel!” Jim laughed, jumping up, and brushing feeling back into his legs and bottom.

He hurried into the bedroom, pulling his rucksack from the wardrobe, and smiling as he lovingly pulled Freddie’s blanket out of the bag. He gave it a tight squeeze before making his way back to the closed door.

The bathroom door was still locked tight.

Jim crouched onto his hands and knees, and pushed the embroidered edge of the blanket under the tiny gap where the carpet met the door.

The lock was pulled back with a seemingly loud crack in the dead of night.

Jim pushed on the door quickly, before Freddie could change his mind. Crawling on his hands and knees into the room, getting the blanket tangled comically around his legs.

Freddie was huddled with his back to the radiator, arms wrapped tightly around his knees. Face hidden in his arms….but Jim was in.


	7. Encounters: Shooting Star - Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is treated to some quiet time with Freddie, as he starts to recover from his terrifying dream.   
Although holding Freddie close to his heart, Jim’s own insecurity is starting to make him doubt he can help his precious lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snuggly Boys 😊

Jim perceived the passage of time in beats of the heart.

The tap dripped into the basin.

The number of times the radiator went from hot to cold to hot again.

Freddie sat huddled in his blanket. Knees pulled close to his chest, head on Jim’s shoulder, eyes closed but not sleeping.

Jim was freezing in just a pair of shorts, but the arm clamped tightly around Freddie was sure enough to sustain them both.

Jim had used all his words for now. He didn’t dare say another for fear of losing Freddie again.

It was compliment enough just to be allowed into Freddie’s sanctuary.

After what felt like an eternity, Freddie raised his head, opened his eyes and tenderly kissed the tip of Jim’s nose.

Jim smiled at the soft little gesture and rubbed Freddie’s shoulder vigorously. “Come on sweetheart. I can’t feel my arse. Back into bed.”

Freddie gripped Jim’s forearm, his eyes wide. “I can’t go back to sleep!”

“You don’t have to go back to sleep” Jim assured him softly, rubbing his arm. “I’m going to order you the milk and honey – it’s disgusting – you’ll love it!” Jim chuckled.

He pulled Freddie to his feet, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, steering him back towards the bed.

Jim flicked on the lamp by Freddie’s side of the bed, and pulled back the duvet, noticing just in time that the bed was wet.

Freddie bent to sit, but with a violent flick Jim shook the duvet harder, pulling it down over the bed.

“No, don’t sit there sweetheart” he said hurriedly. “I want you close to me tonight. Get in my side.”

Jim looked around the room, his eyes falling on a contemporary Sherlock chair, with a large frilly lamp beside it.

“Actually, why don’t you sit in this chair…” Jim suggested brightly, while sweeping an armful of clothes off it, onto the floor. “…just while you have your drink, then we can’t get milk on the pillows” Jim chuckled conspiratorially.

Freddie looked at the bed, then at the chair and appeared to be very confused. “I don’t want to sit there” he said quietly. “Promise I won’t spill my drink.”

Jim was struck by how very young Freddie sounded in that moment. Like a child begging to be allowed to eat in his room.

Jim shook his head, “Yes, that was a stupid thing for me to say in the first place sweetheart. I just want you to be comfortable.”

Freddie drank very daintily, often with a finger raised, Jim had never seen him spill a drink in his life.

Jim wrapped an arm around Freddie’s shoulders and steered him into his own side of the bed before he started to feel cold.

Freddie made a snatch for his blanket when Jim tried to take it from him momentarily, while he got into bed. Jim recoiled immediately, instead capturing the edge of the fabric, rubbing the corner of the blanket against Freddie’s cheek as he tucked his feet up.

It wasn’t the occasion for scoring points, but Jim was thrilled to be able to give Freddie the one thing that might just bring him comfort.

If only he could chase the nightmares away.

********************

“It’s disgusting!” Freddie quipped with humour, peering over the warm cup he had wrapped both hands around, as he drank the last of the milk.

Jim chuckled, taking the cup from Freddie, and placing it on the cabinet. “I thought you would hate it.”

Jim pulled back the duvet, and climbed onto the edge of the bed.

“Wanna lie on my chest sweetheart?” Jim asked carefully.

Freddie nodded, snuggling up close, and still not letting go of his blanket.

Jim snorted. “Your blanket would be a lot more effective wrapped around you, instead of screwed up in your paws” he said, playfully wrestling the blanket away from Freddie. Abandoning the tussle the moment he saw blood seeping from Freddie’s finger ends.

Jim grabbed Freddie’s hands in horror, taking in the jagged edges of so many small cuts. “Darling, what have you done?”

“I couldn’t pull the bolt back on the bathroom door” Freddie lied quickly, unconvincingly, and with closed eyes.

Jim held Freddie’s fingers up to the lamp light; first one hand, and then the other.

“It took both hands?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm, catching him on the lie.

Jim knew he would never get the truth from Freddie - if he didn’t want to tell it – so he quickly changed tact.

“At least it didn’t happen to Brian or Deaky. Ooooooh those strings would smart a bit!” said Jim, lightly kissing the tips of his fingers, and tucking them under the duvet.

Jim shook Freddie’s blanket out, and wrapped it tightly around them both.

“Wanna clutch me like that?” he offered, placing a soft kiss to Freddie’s cheek.

Jim ran large hands over the smooth skin of Freddie’s back, holding him securely, and could have sworn he heard him purr.

**************************

A soft sigh escaped his lips.

Freddie felt the tension soothe away with every stroke of Jim’s soft pads on his skin.

He resisted the urge to shiver. His body giving away tell-tale signs that he was beginning to feel aroused.

That sex should surely follow a close intimate moment between two men such as this.

Freddie was relieved.

Jim’s closeness meant he can’t have seen the bed. If he had, he wouldn’t still be here.

There would have been shouting, and banging, perhaps violence.

There was none of that.

Freddie felt safe and warm, if a little foolish. As long as he could keep Jim on this side of the bed, he could use his own body as a barrier, making sure they didn’t roll to the other side.

Freddie attempted to raise his head, but found the message from his brain didn’t quite connect with his tired muscles, so instead he spoke.

“Are you turned on dear?” he asked cheekily, the humour not quite reaching his voice.

Jim sniggered, and squeezed Freddie. “A little…” he confessed with humour “…but you’re too poorly for any action tonight.”

“What does that mean?” asked Freddie sleepily.

“What being poorly? It’s where….” Jim could hear Freddie rolling his eyes “….what you mean too poorly for action?”

Freddie nodded, weaving a finger through the hair on Jim’s chest.

“It means that you have needs greater than sex. That there are things we can do right now that will make you feel better than sex will. Besides…” Jim held up Freddie’s hand, then let it go, watching as it flopped softly onto his chest “…you’re all floppy.”

Freddie giggled. “My cock’s not.”

Jim stroked his hands slowly down Freddie’s back, cupping his buttocks, and squeezing lightly.

“Would you normally have sex when you’re feeling low? Does it make you feel better?”

Jim counted the seconds. He knew he was taking advantage of Freddie’s unusual chattiness to learn more about him.

“Sometimes. Obviously you feel fine though, so we could?” Freddie offered.

Jim sighed deeply, running one hand up Freddie’s back and winding his fingers into his hair.

Just as he had feared. Freddie was still putting Jim first - and Jim felt far from fine.

If Freddie was upset, then Jim was also upset.

“You know what would make me happy right now?” Jim asked quietly.

Freddie propped his head up with his chin on Jim’s chest. “Anything? Name your price”

“If we could do exactly what we are doing now until morning. Maybe you could snooze a little?”

Freddie brushed his lips softly against Jim’s skin, before laying his head back down.

He had made the offer, there was nothing more he could do to make his lover happy, and if they stayed there – exactly there – the wet bed would never be discovered.

Freddie closed his eyes, and sighed deeply with relief.

**********************

Jim found contentment in the silence that followed as he watched the sky begin to lighten through the thin curtains.

He knew there was no chance that either of them would get any sleep now before they left for New York, but the calmer breaths rippling softly through his chest hair were a comfort to him, as was the warmth and weight of his lover.

“You know, you can tell me about it. Any of it. No judgement. I’ll listen, and I won’t say a word, I promise.” Jim whispered softly winding his fingers through the hair at Freddie’s temple.

“I don’t know” Freddie mumbled softly.

“Don’t know what sweetheart? If you want to tell me?” asked Jim.

Freddie shook his head “No. What the dreams are about.”

It was the response Jim had been expecting, but he was also partially relieved.

He didn’t know how he would have dealt with the truth.

The dreams were obviously horrific. 

Terrifying enough to drive a fully grown rock star into the foetal position for hours.

The silence Jim once received to such questions was being replaced by denial, and lies, but at least words were being uttered in its place.

For now, that would do.

It was the mark of an initiation.

A tiny window into Freddie.

A microscopic vision of a growing trust.

At moments like these Jim was struck with the oddness of the situation.

How delicate Freddie felt in his arms.

How easily he bore the weight of a grown man on his own body for hours – his lover – not a child.

How comforting it was to ease the mind of an adult by holding him close and rocking him like a new born.

Jim felt uneasy.

He had fallen unconsciously into the role left by a string of previous men. Freddie’s emotional well being relying almost exclusively upon his actions.

Jim wasn’t a chaotic man, he wasn’t a hard man, he was probably dissimilar to any man Freddie had ever depended upon, and though not a role Jim relished, he was in too deep to retreat without seriously unbalancing the man he loved.

No, if Jim loved Freddie, he would also have to be his anchor – even if just for a short time.

Perhaps better choices would follow the first good one.

Freddie wouldn’t be this young forever, and his confidence and judgement would grow.

Whatever preyed on the mind of his lover in the small hours wasn’t to be uprooted by a hug, evicted by a warm drink, or even his favourite childhood blanket.

Fear entrenched in Jim’s stomach.

What if the cause was too much for HIM to bear?


	8. Encounters: Shooting Star - Transfer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two bands take the last leg of their journey – to the Big Apple!   
Freddie is struggling to raise his spirits after his bad night, and Jim is exhausted. Maybe some band time is just what they need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants to give Freddie the biggest hug?!

Freddie and Jim made their way out to the awaiting tour bus.

Brian was standing by the open door, guitar case in hand, the blustery wind whipping up his curls.

He raised one hand in a wave. “Morning.”

“Fuck off!” grunted Freddie.

Jim laid a hand on the back of Freddie’s neck and steered him up the bus steps. “You get on sweetheart, I’ll stow our bags.”

Jim whistled through his teeth as he exhaled loudly, stepping back down off the bus, struggling with Freddie’s bags, vanity case and hat box. Brian grabbed Jim’s own rucksack as it tumbled down his shoulder.

Jim’s thanks was a mixture of a smile and a yawn.

“Brian…I’m sorry about Freddie this morning, he hasn’t slept.” Jim said by way of explanation.

Brian waved his hand dismissing Jim’s embarrassment.

“Don’t apologise for him Jim. You forget, I live with him. He’s a shit sometimes – a talented shit – but a shit all the same. That’s just Fred. He drinks too much.”

Jim stopped “Actually….I just need to have a quick chat with the receptionist. Don’t leave without me,” he called over his shoulder as he headed back, leaving a very confused Brian.

*************************

Was that really ‘just Fred?’ pondered Jim, as he walked towards the door of the hotel.

Or had he been battling the nightmares on his own the whole time the boys had known him?

Freddie was a diva – tempestuous sure – but nearly always courteous, polite, and affectionate. The best kind of friend anyone could ask for.

Awake all night, too frightened to sleep? Jim wasn’t sure what sort of a man that would make him into either.

Living and touring with the Queen boys meant that Jim had got to know them well, much faster than under normal circumstances. They ribbed each other to bits, but not one of them wouldn’t try to help Freddie if he was honest with them about why he was tired and prickly some times.

Jim knew Freddie would never confide in his friends – his guard would never drop that far.

He assumed Roger knew something - with having shared his room - but Freddie didn’t know how to reach out in that way.

Jim had his doubts that Freddie would ever tell him what the dreams were about.

Perhaps Freddie genuinely didn’t know - maybe he was being truthful about that.

Dreams were a blur – symbolic of things – but never the things themselves.

Perhaps only the fear was real.

Enough heinous things had happened to Freddie in the short time that Jim had known him to keep him in nightmares for years!

Jim dragged his tired feet up the bus steps, having stowed their luggage, with the exception of Freddie’s blanket, which was rolled up under his arm.

Jim was exhausted.

He felt Brian clap a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and momentarily clasped it in his own.

He wasn’t alone.

As Roger had once said - Freddie had a team – by virtue that meant Jim also had a team.

He may not be able to talk about it, but Brian knew…he just knew.

Jim made his way down the bus, and found Freddie snuggled up to Deaky, head on his shoulder, the same haunted look in his eye as last night.

Deaky gave Jim a sympathetic look, but didn’t speak.

There was nothing he could say.

He couldn’t be sure that Jim wasn’t responsible for his friend’s sadness.

“Where did you go?” Freddie asked accusingly.

Jim stammered before deciding on “The hotel toilets are much nicer than the bus ones, don’t you think?”

Freddie nodded.

Jim slumped into the seat beside Freddie and took his hand, rubbing his thumb rhythmically over his fingers.

Comfort in rhythm often sent Freddie off to sleep. He would feel safe on the bus between Jim and Deaky. He might just relax.

Jim knew his hopes were founded in self-interest.

He could barely keep his eyes open.

He didn’t know how much use he would be at tonight’s show.

He also felt slightly nauseous from missing breakfast, and once again wondered how Freddie survived on so little food.

Freddie encouraged Jim to snuggle closer, so he was sandwiched tightly between him and Deaky.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes.

Jim sent up a silent prayer. It was a couple of hours to New York City, they would both feel better at the other end.

His prayers went unanswered.

The Mott boys crashed onto the bus.

It would appear they hadn’t been back to the hotel at all, apart from to collect their gear, and were still wearing the clothes they had been wearing when they were last seen in the bar in the early hours.

One of the lads kicked Freddie’s feet, startling him back to reality.

“S’up Mercury?” He turned to the others “Oy, lads, look at this, our Fred’s got a man on each arm.”

There was a series of raucous laughter.

“You really are a God my friend!” he said not unkindly, taking his seat and kicking off his shoes.

Freddie had just laid his head onto the rest once again, when Brian stepped up onto the bus moments before it pulled out of the car park.

In one hand he balanced a tower of toast, and tucked under the other arm was the scrabble board, and the morning’s paper.

Brian set the plate down on the table beside Jim “Tuck in mate.”

“Lifesaver” said Jim reaching for a slice.

Roger grabbed at the top piece of toast, and found his hand slapped by Brian. “Oy guts, you’ve just had breakfast, see Jim and Freddie at breakfast did you?”

Roger scowled, but then brightened into a smile. “I’ve touched it now Bri” he said, and took a gigantic bite, never taking his amused eyes from Brian’s annoyed ones.

Brian opened up the local newspaper and spread it out on the table before them.

“Can’t leave you two alone for a minute can I?!” Brian mused carefully, without any real anger.

The largest photo was of Roger – fist raised for impact with the middle aged man’s face – his own screwed up in anger.

Freddie looked horrified in the photo, and there was jelly everywhere.

The boys looked at each other with concern when they remembered the last time Freddie had been misrepresented in the newspaper.

They needn’t have worried.

Freddie cast one eye over the photo, and mumbled “You should have hit him harder Rog.” Before settling back down against the headrest.

Roger’s troubled eyes met Jim’s.

“What’s up big man?” said Roger, gently nudging Freddie. “You’re quiet this morning?”

Jim shook his head discreetly trying to shut Roger up. “Rough night” he mumbled.

Roger rubbed Freddie’s forearm “Aww sorry mate, you’ll be alright now though” he said encouragingly. “Try to focus on tonight’s gig.” Roger nudged Freddie again with his elbow, and succeeded in bringing a small smile to his best friend’s face. “New York, New York” Roger sang dramatically with outstretched arms.

Perhaps he and Roger did need a chat.

Jim held some toast up to Freddie. “Are you going to have some toast and a sleep?”

Freddie shook his head, and said quietly “I want to play scrabble.”

“Death Scrabble!” said Roger with a smile. “The game is on.”

*************************

Jim knew Freddie had gone when the tiny piece of toast between his forefinger and thumb went uneaten.

Freddie had made himself comfortable; lying with his head in Jim’s lap, and his feet across Deaky.

After five weeks on tour, he had finally given up concern for his rock star reputation, and had allowed Jim to wrap him in his blanket when he could not fight sleep any longer.

At least he had scored a fair few points at scrabble – death scrabble as Roger had insisted - to maintain his lofty record before he had faded.

Jim had also persuaded Freddie to eat some toast…even if he had torn it up small, and poked it between his lips when he was concentrating on his Scrabble tiles.

Although exhausted himself, Jim didn’t dare let Freddie lose his Scrabble advantage. It was more than his life was worth.

Words and spelling were not Jim’s strength. He had barely passed his O levels.

He did however achieve the biggest laugh when he spelt out a six letter word - sleepy.

**********************

The reflection of the sunlight off the golden posts hypnotised him as the bus made it’s way over the Brooklyn Bridge.

Freddie’s eyes and mouth fell open in unison at the sight, as he struggled to a sitting position from underneath a mound of blanket, and Jim’s strong arm.

He giggled when he saw that all his friends, and the Mott crew were fast asleep; legs akimbo, necks propped awkwardly, mouths lying open. It was as though some sleeping gas had wafted down the bus.

Freddie crept silently, shuffling forward to place an uneaten slice of toast on Roger’s upturned face, with the delicacy with which he drew the straws at Kerplunk.

He giggled again when Roger didn’t even stir.

Freddie took in the sight of his lover lying awkwardly along the coach seat. His hip shuffled as far into the back as possible to allow maximum space for Freddie to be comfortable. His jacket screwed into a makeshift pillow where Freddie’s head had been, his blanket – which had mummified Freddie - was barely covering Jim at all.

Freddie kissed his finger, and laid it gently on Jim’s lips. “I love you” he whispered faintly.

Jim rubbed his lips together as though the gesture tickled, but didn’t stir. Instead he appeared to smile, squeezing the blanket tighter as though he thought Freddie was still inside.

Freddie would let them sleep for now. Every one of them worked so hard – especially his Jim.

He was just on the edge of another giggle when a sight made him rush to the window. He placed both palms on the glass and pressed his nose against the pane before shouting out loudly in his excitement “Empire State Building!”

Everyone jumped to life as though as bomb had gone off.

Suddenly Freddie felt brand new, and couldn’t wait to take the stage.


	9. Encounters: Shooting Star - Joe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim feels his first flush of jealousy when Freddie makes a new friend on his first night in New York City.  
Just what is Jamie doing there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh it had to come eventually, young Freddie is a terrible flirt darlings! 😊

“Cheers!” said Brian holding up his beer to toast everyone at the table.

“We should do this always” he said. “After every show, we should eat together. We should make it a Queen tradition to have a banquet before we head our separate ways for the evening.”

“Even when we can’t stand the sight of each other?” asked Roger with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“ESPECIALLY when we can’t stand the sight of each other” said Brian. “We can all go our separate ways after the meal, but we should make a pact to have the meal together - not just us - we should invite good company too” Brian clinked his bottle to John’s.

“Our wives and our babies” said Deaky, raising his bottle.

Freddie clapped him on the back with a big smile. “How is Veronica, Deaky?”

Deaky nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “She’s doing well thanks Fred. Though I’m missing it all” he said sadly.

Freddie wrapped an arm around Deaky’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. “Not long now Deaks. We’ll be home by the weekend.”

The boys clinked their glasses together, sealing their new pact.

“You’re all going to get married and have babies and I’m going to be left behind” wailed Freddie sadly, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“What a funny thing to say” said Deaky, eyebrows drawn together. “You’re the only one sitting here with someone who loves you!”

Freddie peeped up at Jim through his hair, discreetly clasping his fingers and squeezing tightly. Could we…..will we…be forever?

*******************

Suddenly Freddie grasped Roger’s hand, and pointed to a slim man ambling past their table.

“Is that…..Jamie?” asked Freddie subtly, eyes wide, mouth a slight sneer.

Roger cupped his free hand around his lips “Oy Jamie” he yelled.

Freddie was mortified by such uncouth behaviour in the hotel dining room, and slapped Roger’s thigh under the table.

Roger shrugged with an impish grin. “What?”

The man turned, and with faux surprise at seeing the band there headed towards the table.

“Yep, it’s Jamie” said Roger with a cocky smile, as though he had just cracked the riddle of the Sphinx.

“I can see its Jamie…” Freddie growled in Roger’s ear “…but what the fuck is he doing here?!”

*********************

Jamie twiddled nervously with the tablecloth, but his eyes followed Freddie, who had excused himself the minute he had arrived, and headed for the buffet table.

“My Uncle Tom has an apartment on 14th Street” said Jamie, by way of explanation for his presence.

“I’m looking after it for him for a few days while he’s out of town. It’s an opportunity to see the Big Apple. I’ve never been here before.” Jamie attempted a shy smile.

“So why didn’t you tell us you were coming to New York yesterday when we were all in Philly…and ALL coming to New York today?” asked Roger, subtle as a brick.

Jamie’s dark eyes were edgy, glancing quickly at one person then swiftly to the next.

“Please excuse Roger” said Jim with an embarrassed smile. “Would you like to join us for dinner Jamie?”

Jim was speaking to Jamie, but only half paying attention.

His eye had been caught by Freddie, who appeared to be flirting with a blond gentleman at the buffet table.

Hands waving, eyelashes fluttering, prettily hopping from one foot to the other.

Jim felt an uncharacteristic flash of annoyance.

Jamie pulled out a chair to sit down at the large round table.

“If you don’t mind? …but where is Freddie sitting?” he asked eyeing up every seat at the table.

Jim patted the booth beside himself where there wasn’t really a space.

He wasn’t sure if Jamie was trying to avoid sitting in Freddie’s seat, or attempting to sit beside him, but Freddie always seemed so uncomfortable around Jamie, that Jim thought it best to keep some distance between them.

“Freddie will sit with me, don’t worry” Jim stated confidently, as raucous laughter went up from the buffet table.

The blond was all rippling muscle as he folded his arms across his chest, and laughed loudly at something Freddie had said.

The next minute Freddie whipped an arm around the blonde’s body, trying to pull something from the back pocket of his jeans, but missing as he danced laughing out of Freddie’s reach.

Freddie’s hands were on his hips, he was swaying charmingly, his gorgeous eyes sparkling, his mouth a wide smile.

He was totally beguiling.

The blonde picked something off the buffet table and popped it into Freddie’s mouth.

Freddie’s eyes were enormous as he licked his lips, acting like he had just eaten the most delicious thing on earth.

Jim watched the interaction between the two men, and the unfamiliar burn of jealously beat in his chest.

Freddie was young, gorgeous, and incredibly sexual. Jim doubted any one man would ever be enough. His ever present insecurity came to the fore, reminding him that if there ever existed such a man – he – Jim Hutton - was not him.

“Are you gonna put up with that?” asked Jamie laughing openly.

“No! I’m gonna beat him later” Jim spat sarcastically, and wondered if Jamie was one of those people who was rude without meaning to be.

Jamie didn’t appear to be the offensive type.

At first glance he was mild mannered – not dissimilar to Freddie.

That said, it wasn’t like Freddie to be so approachable to strangers either. He seemed to have struck up quite the rapport with the blonde.

“I don’t own Freddie, Jamie.” Jim qualified. “He makes his own friends.”

The pair hugged before Freddie all but danced back to the group, nibbling on something he had sneaked from the buffet table.

As Freddie approached the table, he glanced nervously at Jamie from under his hair, then headed for the table end furthest from him, politely excusing himself to every member of the party as he made them get up to let him pass on his way back to his seat beside Jim.

He sunk his bottom down, creating a space, thigh pressed close to Jim’s, before announcing that Joe would be along shortly, and would serve the band’s meal at the table this evening – because Freddie had asked nicely.

“Who’s Joe?” asked Roger, taking the words out of Jim’s mouth.

“He’s the chef here at the hotel. He’s preparing a hot Indian buffet for us this evening. I’ve just tasted one or two dishes.” Freddie formed a perfect ring with his thumb and forefinger. “Mmmmm mm” he emphasized his delight.

Jim had never seen Freddie so enthusiastic about food.

Freddie leaned over, dropping a discreet and sweet little kiss just below Jim’s ear, but the look in his eye made Jim feel as though he was about to be swallowed whole.

Freddie was taking much longer after each and every show to come back down from his showman persona, to his much softer self.

He must have been exhausted from lack of sleep, and frenzied from his exertion on stage, but Jim could tell from the look in Freddie’s eye that it was going to be the early hours of the morning before he succumbed to sleep.

Jim ran a hand along the seat behind Freddie and squeezed his hip lovingly.

Freddie was wearing satin pants – Jim’s favourite.

He liked the way the silky fabric and Freddie’s skin blended into one beneath his touch.

Jim allowed his fingers to wander up the soft skin of Freddie’s back, and was pleased when he felt him shiver under his gentle touch.

Freddie turned to him with such a naughty twinkle in his eye that Jim thought he might be dragged off to their room in the five minutes they had left before the meal was served.

Their attention however, was caught by the waiting staff clearing away empty glasses to set up a lazy Susan in the middle of their table.

Hot dishes appeared in two’s. Some still steaming, others sizzling. The aromas were divine. Jim had never tasted Indian food before, but he did not mention that.

He looked at Brian and Deaky’s faces to see an expression he imagined was showing on his own.

Roger was already drunk, and perhaps a little stoned.

Freddie was clapping his hands and licking his lips. He couldn’t wait to tuck in, and Jim wondered if the food reminded him of his school days – the happier ones – or perhaps his mother’s cooking.

There was still so much Jim didn’t know about Freddie.

Maybe his aversion to eating was that he didn’t enjoy English food very much.

Jim would welcome the opportunity to impress Freddie by learning to cook a few of his favourite childhood dishes – perhaps that would entice his small appetite.

Perhaps he would like a few Irish favourites too.

The blonde appeared at the table, having changed into jeans and a tank top.

Freddie patted the booth to the other side of him. “Joe, come sit with me” he said enthusiastically.

Everybody shuffled up to allow the new guest to sit down.

“Joe this is Jim, Brian, John, Deaky, Roger and Jamie…..everyone this is Joe. Joe is an authentic New York chef, and his food is just beautiful” announced Freddie.

“Dig in everyone” said Joe, with the confidence of someone who had known the men for years.

Roger clapped Joe’s shoulder, and passed him his spliff “Good to meet you man.”

Jim held out his hand, and introduced himself. “Jim Hutton, I work for Freddie.”

Jim’s welcome sounded warmer than he felt, as the words ‘know thy enemy’ echoed around his head.

**********************

Smug best described Jim when Joe proceeded to fill up Freddie’s plate with aromatic food.

It was about knowing a person, and Joe clearly didn’t - Freddie wouldn’t eat a fraction of the food on his plate – no matter how delicious.

Freddie nodded politely as Joe explained each dish.

Joe was moving awfully close to Freddie, even casually draping an arm around his shoulder when he lifted a plate up to allow Freddie to smell the food.

Jim handed Freddie a fork.

He drew the line at sitting by and allowing Joe to hand feed him treats.

That was Jim’s thing.

To Jim’s delight, Freddie took the fork with a bright smile, and asked Jim if he had ever tried Indian food.

Being the subject of Freddie’s attention was like nothing else on earth.

With a look and a smile, Freddie could make a man feel like not only the most important person in the room – but the only person in the room.

Unfortunately for Jim, Freddie also had the same effect on every other person in the room.

Jim shook his head discretely.

Freddie was cultured….so exotic…and Jim felt suburban in his shadow.

On the contrary, Freddie looked delighted to be able to introduce his lover to a part of his world.

“It’s delicious, but I’ll go easy on you the first time” Freddie giggled adorably, and it took every ounce of Jim’s control not to squeeze him there at the table.

Reversing roles, Freddie held a lentil fritter to Jim’s lips.

“Some dishes can be very spicy…” Freddie winked and whispered “…like you - but mostly it’s just flavoursome.”

Jim felt himself relax.

He was back in Freddie’s attention, and everything was fine.

His relief was short lived, when Freddie clasped his hands around Joe’s bicep and shrieked “Look at that!” to anyone who would listen, flushing a furious shade of pink.

Jamie snorted, much to Jim’s chagrin.

Roger appraised Jamie while ramming a curried prawn into his mouth. His assessment came to an abrupt end when he started to gasp at the heat, and reached for his beer.

Freddie and Joe laughed.

Joe patted Roger’s back “Good man! That’s the hottest thing on the table!”

Deaky got up out of his seat, and sat down beside Jamie. Perhaps he struck a chord with the socially awkward man.

“So, tell us a bit about yourself Jamie?” he asked with a friendly smile.

Jamie appeared to splutter. “N-not much to tell” he mumbled.

“Do you have a job?” said Deaky, offering him a starting point.

Jamie shook his head.

“I like drawing though. I’d love to do something…..with my art.”

“Freddie loves art” said Deaky. “Maybe you could draw something for him to look at some time, he would help you for sure. He has a diploma in illustration and graphics.”

Jamie glanced longingly towards Freddie, and whispered “He’s so glamorous.”

Deaky snorted into his beer.

“Yes, he is….sometimes…” said Deaky, thinking about the number of times he had held back Freddie’s hair on a night out. “…he’s very friendly though Jamie. He doesn’t bite. Especially when he knows he can make someone happy.”

Jamie and Deaky’s attention was caught by Freddie laughing loudly, and burying his face in Joe’s shoulder.

“Are you all gay?” Jamie blurted out, loud enough for other diners to hear, and a frosty silence settled over the table.


	10. Encounters: Shooting Star - Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys enjoy their first evening in New York as they get to know their new friends a little better.   
Just what are Joe’s intentions towards Freddie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies, I wasn’t too sure how to present Joe’s character. There is very little documented about his life before he met Freddie – and not too much after either. I imagined his younger self to be bold and cocky. He was always into the gym…and into Freddie – although platonically later on. Anyway, see what you think 😊

Freddie froze, a samosa poised to his lips. 

His gaze could have turned Jamie to stone.

“Well….” started Joe amused. “That’s a conversation stopper young man.”

Joe observed Freddie’s horrified expression, and attempted to bring him back to earth with a poke in the ribs.

Freddie turned his frosty glare on Joe.

If Roger had been in possession of a sharp instrument, Jamie would have bled out in seconds.

“Are YOU gay Jamie?” he asked curtly.

Jamie glowed a deep shade of crimson, and his eyes were at his feet. “Erm…..I don’t know….erm…I think I might be…erm…I’ve never …tried.”

Joe laughed easily “Well in that case, you’re straight like the rest of us hey lads?”

“Fred’s sexuality is his own fucking business, as is everyone else’s at this table” Roger growled. “His family doesn’t even know, so just shut the fuck up! He’s our mate!” Roger dramatically reached for some more food, never taking his icy gaze off Jamie.

Jim tentatively squeezed Freddie’s hand, afraid he might be shaken off, but Freddie’s gaze softened when his eyes met Jim’s. “It’s alright baby” Jim whispered encouragingly.

“Anyway….” said Joe, reaching under the table, and rifling around in his cargo bag. “Last night’s date must also have been picking up vibes coz she wanted to use this on me.”

This…was an enormous bubble gum pink vibrator. 

Joe stood it on the dining table without shame, and not even a blush.

Brian shook his head in disapproval. “Really lads…..at the table?”

Deaky looked as though he was trying to slide underneath the table.

Roger grinned and reached for another samosa.

Freddie squealed with laughter, seizing the vibrator and waving it in the air.

“God knows where she wanted to put it…..” started Joe with a huge grin, relieved his humour had reached its target audience.

“Well if you don’t know darling, you’re dating the wrong men!” Freddie cut across him before being over taken by the giggles.

John Reid clearly amused, winked at Freddie. “That’s ambitious…..even for you!” he quipped.

It was Jim’s turn to laugh out loud. 

He would have been embarrassed if the idea wasn’t so ridiculous.

Jim pulled a giggling Freddie to his feet. Holding him around the waist, he turned him sideways to his audience, and held the comedy vibrator against Freddie’s breath takingly slim hip. “Where do you think you’d fit this darling - seriously?”

The table erupted into raucous laughter.

Brian couldn’t help but laugh, as he discreetly surveyed the restaurant, grateful they were the last to leave for the evening.

Freddie turned to Jim, tears of laughter in his eyes “It’s no bigger than you dear!” he stated for all to hear.

Jim felt his face ignite into flames, and made a comedy attempt to crawl under the table himself.

“Wait!” said Joe, looking from Jim to Freddie, and back again. “Are you two …a couple?”

Jim slipped a large possessive hand over Freddie’s hip, making him melt. “Yes, we are.”

Joe clapped slowly. “The elusive gay couple. Not too many of those in our demographic guys and dolls. I thought you were playing the tough guy….like Freddie’s bodyguard or something…”

Freddie took the pro-offered spliff from Roger and took a drag. “Jim does lots of things for my body dear.”

The table erupted once more.

************************

Roger pushed a vodka tonic across the table to Freddie, who was slumped in his seat, cradling his stomach.

“S’up Fred? You’re not drinking” he asked.

“I’ve eaten too much” Freddie whined softly, his face crumpling dramatically to convey his discomfort. “I can’t fit it in.”

Joe laughed and slapped Freddie’s thigh “Something else you can’t fit in!”

Freddie wasn’t amused. 

In fact he was starting to feel generally unpleasant.

He was suddenly aware of his heart beating a little too fast, and a weight in the pit of his stomach.

Jim smiled softly, and covered Freddie’s hand with his own “Are you ok sweetheart?”

Freddie nodded and returned a bright smile. 

He would be fine. 

He didn’t want to ruin Jim’s evening by making him babysit yet again.

Placing a soft kiss to the back of Jim’s hand, Freddie excused himself and headed for the bathroom.

******************

Thankfully the bathroom was empty as the moment Freddie entered he suddenly felt nauseous. 

He rushed into the cubicle and locked the door, slumping onto the closed toilet lid, with his hands over his eyes.

The waves rushed over him causing his heart to thump dramatically in his chest, as he was suddenly overcome by heat. 

He was so tired!

He considered making himself vomit, getting it over with. Expunging the heavy feeling in his stomach, but something stopped him. 

A flash of annoyance, frustration and anguish.

A small voice that asked “Why me?” 

Why do other people successfully eat a meal, or complete a night out without vomiting or passing out, or just wanting to sit in a corner and cry so loud and so hard that everyone in the vicinity came running. 

It was the same compulsion that drove Freddie out of the cubicle with such momentum that he had to clutch the sink to stop himself falling, as his woozy head caught up with him. 

He could hear people outside in the restaurant, but the sounds were unfamiliar to him, alien almost, dissonant, and they further disoriented him. 

Freddie dry wretched into the sink, and the feeling was almost a comfort to him. 

An action, an activity, a place to lie his pain.

Freddie starred at his reflection in the mirror. 

His skin a sickly yellow hue.

His brow sweaty.

His eyes bloodshot from tears he refused to shed.

Freddie reached for a paper towel, ran it under the cold tap and held it to his face. 

The coolness instantly made him shiver, and the jagged cuts on his finger ends smarted more than normal, like a mirroring heartbeat. 

The memory of another person.

A smaller person. 

A broken person.

A person who had come so close.

Freddie once again stared into the mirror.

“Stop this!” he told his reflection firmly. “You’re going to be a legend!” 

Sadness rushed into his eyes when he continued to whisper “Why am I so ugly?”

Suddenly Joe appeared at the door. “Are you alright Freddie? Jim’s about to send a search party. Said I needed a piss so he didn’t come looking for you.”

Freddie was relieved it was Joe and not Jim, he might have broken down at Jim’s feet.

Freddie hurriedly started to wash his hands, hoping the rapid movement would disguise their trembling. 

He smiled at Joe. “Why didn’t you want Jim to look for me darling?” He threw the paper towel in the bin, and turned to head towards the door.

Suddenly his lips were captured by another’s.

Freddie found himself pushed bodily into the cold tiles of the wall. 

His arms were forced above his head in a tight clasp, as a tongue pushed its way into his mouth, punctuating his thoughts, plundering his mind, and stopping his pain dead. 

Freddie met the kiss with equal ardour, whimpering as heat pulsed through him. Violently pulling his hands free to thrust his fingers into Joe’s hair and tug with intensity.

His anguish shattered into a million pieces as he struggled to breathe through the fervour of the kiss.

Joe pulled back. The passion evident on his face as he mirrored the heat on Freddie’s, before capturing Freddie’s lips in another heart stopping kiss.

Everything would all be fine.

As long as he kept being kissed like this.


	11. Encounters: Shooting Star - The Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is blissfully unaware that Freddie has just kissed his new friend, and is deliberating a night out on the NYC gay scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think lovies – should / will Freddie own up?

Jim linked Freddie’s fingers gently as he squeezed past to reclaim his seat.

To his surprise, Freddie gave Jim a broad smile before plonking himself delicately in his lap, and kissing him boldly on the lips.

For the first time when being kissed by Freddie, Jim didn’t know what to do.

He wasn’t used to such public displays of affection.

Freddie downed the vodka tonic, discretely surveying Joe through his hair as he sat down beside him in the space Freddie had left vacant.

Joe was openly drinking up every last drop of Freddie’s interest.

Freddie suggestively licked the last few delicious drops of vodka from his straw, never taking his eyes from Joe’s.

Jim didn’t miss Joe’s obvious interest, and with a dramatic jolt of his knee, tipped Freddie back into his arms, cradling him close.

Freddie squealed, and pleased Jim when he wrapped his arms around his neck, and squeezed him tightly.

Whatever had taken place during Freddie’s visit to the bathroom, he was far more relaxed than when he had gone in.

Jim curled his fingers into the collar of Freddie’s satin top, lightly chasing over his collarbone with his fore finger.

Freddie sighed sweetly at Jim’s touch.

“You’re flushed this evening sweetheart” Jim whispered into his ear. “Are you feeling ok?”

Freddie nodded, and casually asked the group “What did I miss?”

“Well before he came looking for you, Joe was regaling us with tales of American gay bars” said Deaky with a hint of humour.

“Aahh the rooms” said Joe wistfully.

“They have these swings…” he continued with a twinkle in his eye, “…and you have sex in them. Let me tell you…” Joe whistled “….they are fantastic. Reaches parts…. if you know what I mean.”

Freddie giggled, burrowing his blushed face into Jim’s neck, before taking an avid interest.

“What do you mean….swings?....honey listen” Freddie ordered, tapping Jim’s shoulder.

Jim chuckled “Yes, your majesty.”

Freddie poked out his tongue.

“They are like straps suspended from the ceiling and you climb in together…this bloke got me to lie on my stomach on the swing….and ….” Joe looked from Brian to Deaky to Jamie, and decided against finishing his sentence, and settled upon starting a new one.

He slammed his fist down on the table. “Fuck it! Let’s go out!”

Freddie nodded, his mischievous face brightening as a broad grin emerged slowly from ear to ear.

Joe assessed his audience.

“New York gay bars are different from the UK. You don’t just sit around having a beer, you ARE the show. If you’re straight, don’t come, I mean it, I’m not being rude. There’s live sex shows. Men strung from the ceiling in cages wearing just strips of leather, with anything from ….” Joe stopped talking with a wave of a hand “…you get the impression.”

Brian screwed up his face “I don’t need to see that. I do not need to see that.”

Deaky finished his beer and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand “I’m out. I’d die.”

Roger sniggered “It’s bad enough catching these two in the fucking bathroom!”

Freddie pouted. “But I wanna go out!” he whaled. “For the first time in my life I have the opportunity to have sex when and where the mood takes me – without judgement - and you guys want to what…go to bed early?! You’re all fucking rubbish!”

Jim couldn’t help but be enchanted by Freddie in a strop. His only regret was that Freddie was seated, so Jim didn’t get to see him stamp his little boot.

“You can go out without them can’t you?” asked Joe with humour. “You’re a big boy” he quipped, eyes dropping flirtatiously and obviously down to Freddie’s lap.

Jim had a feeling it wasn’t really his scene either, but one look at Freddie’s face told him that the swing experience was going to be in his very near future.

Freddie going with Joe alone – not a chance!

The game was on.

Jim knew he was the luckiest man alive to have Freddie.

He saw the looks on other people’s faces - he was not worthy of Freddie, not one jot - but he was not going to stay home while his pretty butterfly fluttered to the next bright and bold thing.

Freddie was looking for a good time, and Jim knew he would find it – whether he was a part of that good time or not.

Hard sex in high energy places was not Jim’s style, but he had to admit that the thought of getting Freddie into one of those swings did something to him, and he found his mind wandering back to the hot heady days of the London gay scene, when he was chasing this wide eyed beauty through bar and club.

A warm cosy bed, where he could take his time was Jim’s style. Somewhere private he could show Freddie how much he cared. Somewhere he could make him feel really good, without fear of getting caught.

Jim was equally fearful of Freddie getting bored.

If a hard fuck over a leather strap was what Freddie was looking for, then Jim would deliver, and it would be memorable.

Jim blushed when he realised everyone was looking at him to make the final decision.

His agreement was a resigned smile, and a roll of his eyes.

“Yes!” hissed Freddie, pumping his fist into the air.

Jim became aware of a pair of eyes burning into the side of his head.

Roger pointed angrily at Freddie. “If anyone lays one finger on him he doesn’t want…it’s you I’m coming after!” he growled.

“I hoped you knew me better” said Jim, affronted.

Freddie clapped his hands with glee, wriggling his hips, and shuffling in Jim’s lap in a fashion that was making him uncomfortable in a good way – especially when followed by Freddie burrowing a warm hand into his pocket.

Jim grinned “Starting already love?”

Freddie giggled. “I want the key so I can go get changed.”

“Changed?? You look ravishing sweetheart” said Jim, resting his forehead against Freddie’s hair, inhaling his lovers scent in anticipation of what was to come.

“Wrong answer” said Freddie jumping up, room key in hand, and heading for the door. “I know just the outfit.”

The wheels turned in Jim’s head…”Hang on….just how public is public? There are private areas right?!”

Joe laughed. “You’ve agreed to it now mate. Are you going to be the one to tell Freddie no?!”

Joe knew he had won that battle before it had even begun.

*************************

“Oh my fucking God!” exclaimed John Reid with a whistle through his teeth.

It didn’t take Jim long to work out what had got his attention. The room went quiet, and the occupants turned to look in the same direction as John.

Freddie was making his way towards them.

He was wearing the tightest pair of leather hot pants never before seen on a man. A faux fur cropped gilet, cowboy boots, and a pirate hat.

He looked edible.

He looked totally unaware of the effect he was having.

The faces of the people around Jim reflected what he could only assume was his own expression.

Freddie slid passed Jim into his seat at the booth. Leather clad arse cheeks in Jim’s glowing red face.

Jim couldn’t touch him here.

Not in the way he wanted to.

At first opportunity he would bite those cheeks.

Freddie turned to Jim, noticing his flushed appearance. “Are you alright dear?”

Jim laughed. “Are we off lads? Lead the way Joe …..quick!”

Everyone roared with laughter.

*****************************

Freddie felt the buzz of the city as soon as he stepped outside.

It was considerably late, and the nightlife had awoken, bringing with it a different side to New York city.

Freddie was glad it wasn’t quite winter yet, but he did feel the chill on his bare legs.

Freddie was always cold…unless he was under the glare of the stage lights. There it was like being in India again, and although sometimes overwhelming, he welcomed the opportunity to thaw.

Jim had offered him his coat more than once, but Freddie needed to be seen if he was going to make his name here.

He would make it.

He was certain of it.

Freddie never failed to be noticed - especially if he used his body. Seeing made people want to touch, and Freddie thrived on the attention.

He always knew he would love New York City.

He glanced up at the high rise apartments, and dreamed of owning one himself someday.

Freddie would choose one with beautiful architectural lines, and panoramic views of the river.

“Oy lads, check out the queers!” sneering voices interrupted his daydream, bringing him down to earth with a bang.


	12. Encounters: Shooting Star - Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and his band of men encounter some nasties on their way to the club. Freddie can’t bear to see Jim hurt, and puts himself on the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is never simple for our lovely Freddie ☹ He just wants to have fun!

Freddie felt the butterflies arrive in his stomach on a rush of cool air.

How did they always know?

Those that had called him names all his life.

Even when he had been just a boy, they had known – perhaps before he did.

Freddie raised his hat, not high enough to reveal his face, just high enough so that he could peer out from underneath.

It was starting to drizzle with rain, or at least he assumed rain had caused the damp patches on the man’s t-shirt.

He was a large man, balding, with a bloated stomach that hung over his jeans.

He was drunk, uncoordinated, and at least twice Freddie’s age.

“Wrong side of town are you pretty? Off to a costume party?” the man jeered as a further five mates appeared behind him.

The man obviously thought himself hilarious as he doubled over at his own joke.

Instinct told Freddie to move closer to Jim.

Experience told him that would only make the situation worse.

Freddie knew all about bullies, and suddenly he felt like Farrokh Bulsara.

He could still feel the blows as they landed on his face from unsupervised, ill-matched boxing meets in the dorm, that he had been pressured into undertaking.

The dull thud echoing through the bones of his skull, blood gushing from his gums, as his boxing opponents punched at his weakness over and over again.

He had been just a boy, a boy much smaller than his peers, it hadn’t been fair.

It still wasn’t fair.

He must have slowed his pace, because in the next minute Jim walked into the back of him.

Freddie felt a warm reassuring hand on his hip. “Keep walking sweetheart, that one’s too drunk to attack his own shadow,” Jim whispered.

Freddie giggled nervously.

“Think I’m funny do you pretty boy?” the man taunted, as the others moved to surround the group.

“Come on lads, let us pass” said John stepping forward, taking charge. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re on the piss, same as you.”

“Fucking foreigners” the man spat on the floor at John’s feet. “You’re nothing like us!” he jeered.

Nobody expected John to suddenly head butt the man who had uttered those words, but he had before anyone was prepared for it.

An indefinable flash point had passed, and suddenly every man was galvanised into action.

Joe stopped abruptly to allow the man who had crept up behind him to run into a sharp jab to his ribs, before being thrown over Joe’s shoulder, and pushed to the ground.

Jamie made a run for it, and didn’t look back.

Jim attempted to discreetly shuffle Freddie protectively behind him, without drawing the men’s attention.

Despite Freddie’s trepidation, he stepped up to protect his lover by throwing the first punch.

He wasn’t Farrokh Bulsara anymore – he was Freddie fucking Mercury, and no one was going to hurt his man.

The surprise show of dominance caught Jim off guard, and caused him to receive a sloppy punch to the jawline, before recovering quickly enough to get the large man into a head lock.

Another man launched himself at Jim, pushing him hard, loosening Jim’s grip on his friend, who manouvered his way around Jim’s back, and held his arms securely behind him rendering him useless.

The man who had punched Jim, drew his fist back again – this time to swing at Freddie.

With a roar, Jim forced his weight back against the man who restrained him, pushing both feet into the man’s chest, knocking him onto his back, before he could land his swing.

Joe rushed forward to help Jim as he was forced to the ground, leaving Freddie unprotected.

The second man was up on his feet again rushing at Freddie with an angry growl.

Jim twisted, screaming in agony as he forced his back to turn fast enough to kick out his legs, causing the man to stumble, crashing onto his face on the ground just inches from Freddie.

“Stop it!” Freddie cried out, rushing to Jim’s side.

Everyone turned at the unexpected sound.

Freddie forced his face into a large tearful showman smile.

“Come on boys please” he begged, waving his hands as if in surrender. “Don’t fight. I hate it. Let’s all just go get pissed instead.”

The large man struggled out of Joe’s grasp “Get off me your fucking pansy” he roared before flailing his uncoordinated arms around trying to land a blow.

“Oy!!!” came an loud yell from the other side of the street, as Roger, Brian and Deaky appeared out of a bar, running towards their friends. “What the fuck is going on?!”

“Roggie!” Freddie shouted with relief. “These man are…..are …..horrid dear!”

Joe sniggered “Is that the best you got?”

The men suddenly realising they were outnumbered began to retreat when they took one look at angry Roger.

“Ahh fuck ‘em” spat the ringleader. “Fucking pansies” he cried as they bumbled off down the road, desperate to get the last word.

Roger nudged Freddie “You ok?”

Freddie nodded, attempting to help Jim up off the ground.

“What was that about?” asked Brian.

“Local morons. We get them” said Joe.

“As do we!” muttered John, wiping at a spec of blood on his lip, suddenly directing his anger towards Freddie.

“Don’t you ever fucking pull that stunt again!” he roared.

“You’re a fucking star Freddie. Start acting like one. I know you think yourself an idiot, but do you think me an idiot too?”

Freddie shook his head, and dropped his gaze to his boots, scuffing the toes together, praying that John would stop shouting at him.

John stabbed a finger towards Jim. “I employ Jim to look after you. Do you think I’d have hired a fucking drip? No. I hired him because he’s trained to deal with imbeciles like them.” John pointed towards the backs of the retreating men. “Let him do his fucking job!”

John wasn’t letting up.

“You got in his fucking way tonight trying to play the fucking hero. You both could have been on your fucking backs injured. Then what of your precious tour? When you’re out and about, he is your fucking bodyguard. You might as well have bound his arms and legs tonight.”

“I stopped the fight!” Freddie yelled back indignant. “It was you that started it!”

Jim pulled Freddie towards him, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Let it go sweetheart. Everyone is alright. He’s just upset because you’re important to him, OK?” Freddie turned into Jim’s hug, and buried his face for a moment, relieved that his lover was in fact OK.

Jim turned his attention to the group. “They’ve gone now lads, let’s not let it ruin a good night by falling out hey? What do you all say? The clubs await?”

Brian appeared to be deliberating. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked scratching his head. “That might have been a sign.”

John tutted and rushed on ahead.

Freddie looked at each and every one of his friend’s faces, but the pull was too strong, he couldn’t bear John to be angry with him.

Suddenly he raced on ahead, catching up to John and linking his arm. “Want me to help find you a man tonight?”

John stopped walking.

He looked at Freddie’s upturned face.

The stubborn jut of his chin.

The hopeful gaze in his eyes.

John realised that Freddie wasn’t going to stop pampering him until he was forgiven - Freddie was just too proud to say he was wrong, and he was sorry, and he might have just been a little bit right about John starting the fight.

Nevertheless John couldn’t stay angry at Freddie, he had a spot for him that was just too soft.

John also knew he wasn’t really angry because Freddie had defended himself.

He was angry because he couldn’t bear to see him hurt.

That train of thought was too close to the bone for consideration.


	13. Encounters: Shooting Star - Assimilation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Jim make their way into their first hardcore New York gay club, and it affects them both differently. Freddie has stepped into wonderland, whereas Jim is a little more reflective – temporarily – until his lover crawls seductively under his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies, being neither a gay man, nor that old, I have never experienced the 1970’s gay scene. Therefore everything you will read is from internet research, or my vivid imagination of how I think Wonderland would look to Freddie. Enjoy!😊😊

Joe grasped Jim’s upper arm when he appeared beside him.

“What the fuck are you doing? We’re VIP, come on, we’re not queuing” he yelled with a big smile, letting everyone in the queue know he was with the band.

“Freddie wants to queue” Jim stammered. “Says all these people have waited, it’s only fair we queue too.” Jim turned to get Freddie’s agreement, but Freddie was busy charming a cigarette out of the man standing behind them.

Joe didn’t wait. He pulled on Jim’s arm to follow him. Jim wrapped an arm around Freddie’s hip and pulled him along too.

“Freddie, come on” Joe bellowed “I know the doorman.” Freddie shrugged, and allowed himself to be swept away.

Jim felt a nip at his elbow.

He turned to see John trying to tell him something, so he leaned in closer.

“Just look at this crowd. There’s ever fucker in here. From the gay curious, to the masochism grand master…” he jabbed his finger towards an oblivious Freddie, who was still trying to get his cigarette lit “…keep your eye on him. He’s every fuckers wet dream.”

********************

“Membership cards, I.D’s” barked an enormous cowboy with a genuine Texan drawl, and a wide brimmed hat, who was standing at the top of a very steep, very dark staircase. “You…definitely I.D” he said, pointing at Freddie.

Joe stepped up to the desk. “These are my friends from London, they’re a rock band” he shouted over the throbbing baseline coming from downstairs.

“I don’t care if it’s Prince Charles himself….I need to see I.D” boomed the host.

Freddie sunk his hand into Jim’s back pocket with a flash of his excited eyes. A minute later he retrieved his nearly outdated student card, and poked out his tongue.

“No pockets in my shorts” he shouted to the host, handing over the card.

The host tipped his Stetson, and said with a wink “Happy birthday baby brown eyes.”

Freddie giggled, and attempted to tuck his I.D back into Jim’s pocket, but Jim wrapped an arm around his waist, and wrestled it from his grasp.

“Let me have a look at that! Is it really your birthday? You never said a thing. I thought you were just winding me up with all that kitten stuff to Mum on the phone.”

Freddie smiled shyly “It’s my birthday next week. We’ll be back in London then.”

***************************

The group were swept down the stairs, towards the beat.

The dimmed lighting coming from the dark red bulbs made it difficult to fix their gaze on anything, or anyone.

The club was a great place to hide in plain sight, and Freddie tucked that thought away for later.

The beat was practically deafening now, and Freddie could feel it vibrating through his chest, and couldn’t help but move his hips.

The stairs opened out into an sensory emporium.

There was a long bar against the wall which was brightly lit and surrounded by men talking, drinking, kissing and touching.

There were a number of red leather booths lining an enormous dance floor which was jumping with sweating bodies moving to the beat.

Everywhere he looked there was something to catch his interest – a dance move, a melody, a costume.

Freddie’s clever artistic brain was swiftly memorising what he saw – leather, PVC, latex, suede - fabrics in colours he was yet to experiment with. Fabrics much harder than the ones he was used to against his skin.

Men in costume - roman soldiers, warriors, tradesmen, cowboys, men in uniform, men in cages, men on lengths of rope, or in harnesses. All looking back at him with the same erotic curiosity as he made his way deeper into the throng of hot sweating bodies.

Freddie had never seen this level of openness, and he reveled in it. His beautiful eyes larger than ever as he drank up the atmosphere. Absorbing it through his skin.

It was like seeing his wildest fantasy being re-enacted in front of his eyes, with no one to judge.

No body caring that he – Farrokh Bulsara – child of Zanzibar, child of Zoroaster was witness to all this wanton pleasure, and for tonight he was accepted but it.

He was validated, he was accepted, he was revered for exactly who he was.

Exactly who he was born to be.

No matter what he looked like, what he was thinking, how he may act, he would blend into obscurity.

He was normal.

An enormous leather bound man brushed past him, a hand reaching out and faintly brushing over his cock. As if by accident. As if it had never happened at all.

Freddie glanced up at the man, and felt giddy.

He was enormous – draped in a cape, a leather conductors hat, with a large moustache. The man smiled at Freddie and raised his hat.

Freddie was aware of his cock straining against fabric that was too tight, but he had no need for self-consciousness.

There were many pairs of trousers a little too tight in here, sweat pouring from tight muscled backs moving to the beat.

He felt aroused.

He felt empowered.

***********************

The air was dense.

Not a fog exactly, but thick, with a powerful feeling of disorientation.

The dimmed lighting, the intermittent flash of the disco lights, the movement of bodies.

Jim could no longer be sure who was leading the way, as the group appeared to be headed towards the thickest throng of bodies.

Jim could only follow the curvy silhouette of his lovers hip.

His lover who appeared to be entranced by his atmosphere.

The proverbial child in a sweet shop, and Jim was reminded of how little he truly knew Freddie.

The timid boy who just six weeks ago had been nervous at the thought of spending the night in a tent in his own garden, somehow transformed into a sleek black panther in such an erotically charged adult environment.

Perhaps he had occupied an adult world for so long that he had grown comfortable.

Conversely, simple pleasures from childhood signified an unknown threat to him.

The atmosphere took Jim back in his mind.

Back to his first heady days on the London gay scene, when he had just arrived from an Irish back water.

When he wasn’t entirely sure if it was women, if it was men - or perhaps both that he needed.

What was out there for a tall, broad, serious young man, whose heart was on his sleeve?

A man who cared deeply?

A man who found throw away love intolerable?

A man who with little guidance, and even less education had decided that to be gay was to be effeminate.

Soft and gentle, delicate with long sweeping lashes, and a propensity to giggle.

To have a pre-occupation with nylon tights and mascara.

To be an accomplished cook, and a better pianist.

Jim had done his time. He had learnt all that, and had felt even more disconnected with his true self than he had in Ireland.

Then there was the bedroom.

The nightly struggle with role and position.

With the uneducated ‘well of course it doesn’t feel natural – it’s not’ attitude.

The tuts, the rolls of the eyes, the sniggers behind hands, and the more blatant ‘you’re no top’ forces within the culture.

He’d had a number of short, successful relationships where he had found his place, but nothing compared to Freddie.

Freddie was an original – on stage, at home, and most certainly in the bedroom.

Jim had never had a more satisfying partner.

Jim’s experiences as a submissive had left him so dissatisfied that he questioned the role entirely – until he had met Freddie.

He’d never seen anyone catch fire sexually the way Freddie did - immediately and wholly.

Jim had witnessed Freddie play many roles in his life. He could switch between a number of alter egos in seconds, but not in bed.

Jim wasn’t an ego driven man.

He took his time, and he took care, and he knew from the minute movements of Freddie’s body, the pornographic sounds, and the sensitivity of his skin that Freddie was genuinely himself in that moment.

The way he had struggled with Jim’s style. His confusion when Jim didn’t throw him around like a toy, the way he had nearly pulled out Jim’s hair the first time they had made love, frustrated by Jim’s pace, surety, and tenderness.

Freddie was a gender role, but never a cliché.

He couldn’t boil an egg if his life depended on it, and he wasn’t simply accomplished at the piano, he attacked it with the genius of rocking Mozart.

Jim watched his beautiful little stereotype launch his full weight at a man who had just dared to give Jim the eye. His body rigid with tension and possessiveness. Those intense eyes cat-like slits, his jawline raise in challenge.

Mine.

**********************

Freddie was temporarily distracted by a very large man who brushed past him – a little close for Jim’s liking. Then he swung around to grasp Jim’s hand, to share his joy with the man he loved more than anyone in the world, who was more than likely feeling exactly as he was right now.

He turned back to the direction they were headed and was disorientated when he could no longer see his friends.

Suddenly a hand came out of the mist and tenderly cupped Freddie’s face. He could make out John’s eyes, and followed, as a strong arm pulled him into a booth.

Suddenly he could clearly recognise Joe’s face, and make out his lips were moving. Joe gesticulated the surrounding air with a wave of his arm “poppers in the air vents” he yelled, by way of explanation for their disorientation.

Freddie felt gorgeously drunk – high on decadence, and the night was just beginning.

*******************

Freddie gazed up at Joe, as he placed a tray full of shot glasses on the table before him.

“What are those?” he asked, as he daintily picked up a glass and brought it to his nose before taking a small sip. His eyes lit up at the strength of the warm liquor.

“Firecrackers” said Joe with a smile, taking a glass and downing it in one. “It’s sour mash whiskey with cinnamon. You won’t be cold later on” he laughed.

Freddie put the glass to Jim’s lips.

It smelt good, and Jim also hastily drank the contents of the small glass before reaching for another.

“It’s like drinking from a sewing thimble” said Jim, highlighting the ridiculous size of the glass between his thumb and his forefinger.

Freddie’s attention had already gone.

A man appeared to be fisting another in a cage above his head.

Freddie watched avidly for a few moments, his glass held in mid-air.

Jim had also followed Freddie’s line of sight, and was amazed to see the excited suggestion in his lover’s eyes.

“No!” Jim said firmly.

Joe laughed loudly and pushed the tray closer to Freddie. “You need a few more of those down you before you try that kind of heavy lifting.”

Annoyed by Joe’s comment, Jim slid his arm along the leather booth, around Freddie’s hip and lifted him in one fluid movement onto his knee, legs either side of his.

He swept Freddie’s hair behind his ear and whispered “You need a few more years on you, and a lot more trust in me before we try that.”

Freddie wasn’t listening.

He had ignited at Jim’s unexpected show of strength, rocking down hard on him, before burying his fingers into his hair, and pushing his lips hard and breathlessly to Jim’s.

Jim’s response was immediate.

He wound his hand up Freddie’s back, twirling his fingers around his hair. His other hand was splayed firmly across Freddie’s leather clad buttocks, pulling his body hard against his own, as Freddie ground down on him.

Their kisses were breathless as tongues intertwined, stopping only to renew their assault.

Freddie groaned loudly in Jim’s ear, as he thrust violently against Jim’s body.

Jim felt an annoying tapping on his shoulder. He tried to brush off the hand, but it came again.

He held Freddie’s hot cheek against his collarbone, this time he heard a voice.

It was John.

“Jim….Jim….” Jim looked up at John’s amused face, and to where he and Joe were pointing. “Down there, take him down there.”

Jim could see an open door, which seemed to lead to another flight of stairs.

Freddie was nipping at Jim’s neck urgently, breathing harshly into his ear.

Jim didn’t even attempt to explain. He stood, Freddie’s legs wrapped around his waist and strode towards the stairwell.

It was Joe’s amused voice he heard first. “He’s a handful. It’s always the sweet looking ones.”

John’s amused reply; “Fred is a sex machine. Don't be fooled.”


	14. Encounters: Shooting Star - Misaligned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim urgently bundles a very horny Freddie downstairs to a private space where they can be together. Freddie is naked in seconds, but have his expectations changed?   
Perhaps our show pony needs to use his tongue for more than just kissing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies this was a very tricky idea to write, and skims on a fine line. Let me know what you think. Please check the tags, and read with care

Jim rested Freddie’s back against the door, safely holding him in place with his hips, as he wrestled with the door handle.

The expression on Freddie’s face was an impassioned sneer at the delay. 

The violent shade of his kissed red lips, slightly parted as he gasped for air, his cheeks flushed, his eyes black with arousal.

“You are a minx,” Jim growled, before pressing a thumb hard against his bottom lip, followed swiftly by his teeth.

Freddie shivered with passion as the door burst opened, and he was pushed into the room.

Jim had just clicked the lock into place when he turned to find Freddie already standing in a pool of his own clothing.

Freddie was so body confident.

Nakedness seemed not to faze him one jot.

It was his beautiful mind that belonged to him – and him alone.

Flicking out his hair, Freddie stepped out of the leather shorts, allowed the waistcoat to dribble down his arms, and placed his hat on an unexpected clothes peg on the wall.

“No underwear?” asked Jim in wonderment.

Freddie didn’t turn to Jim immediately, but wandered around the room instead, taking in the many things there was to see.

He didn’t seem to notice the enormous black leather swing suspended from the ceiling which looked like a giant spider’s web.

It took up the majority of the space, but Freddie was examining the old photographs on the walls of 1920’s movie greats, and sporting stars. Perhaps they had frequented the clubs and baths of New York City in their time.

Jim looked around with interest as he removed his own clothing at a more measured pace.

He had expected the environment to be sordid, or clinical perhaps, but it felt far from.

The red light bulbs created sexual mystery – something that Freddie had in spades.

The room was small, and cosy, but they weren’t bumping into one another.

It was relatively cool, but Freddie didn’t seem to be shivering.

He was riffling through some drawers instead, and turned to Jim with tears of laughter, holding a butt plug.

Jim felt himself cringe.

“Urgh, put that down Freddie please” he said, “You don’t know where that’s been – or rather you do – if you want toys, I will buy you new toys - of your own.”

Freddie grinned “Oooh promises.”

He wrinkled his nose and dropped the toy like a hot potato, turning his attention to a gigantic rubber paddle that was mounted on the back wall.

He carefully lifted it from its supports, surprised to find it was lighter than he thought, and could be wielded quite easily.

He swung it around unexpectedly and swiped Jim’s bottom smartly with a giggle.

Freddie flashed Jim the most adorable ‘forgive me’ eyes when Jim pretended to be cross.

Freddie swung the paddle to the ground, placing the edge of the blade between his lips, he peered up at Jim with wide sparkling eyes and teased “Are you gonna beat me sir? I’ve been bad.”

Jim laughed out loud, but Freddie could see the effect on his cock.

Jim was turned on by the thought, and Freddie was excited and intrigued.

Perhaps there was an undiscovered dominant in his kind gentle lover.

“I’m not gonna hit you with that Freddie, it’s bigger than you!” Jim chuckled.

Making his eyes even wider, Freddie pouted “Not even if I begged? I’ve been very bad.”

Jim’s hand flicked out quick as a flash and he grabbed the end of the paddle, pulling Freddie towards him, until his forehead was resting lightly on Freddie’s, and he was looking into his beautiful eyes.

“You know the terms Freddie” Jim teased, “tell me from here …” Jim rested a finger lightly on his lips “…what you want me to do to you?”

Freddie squealed and ran away laughing.

Jim left holding the paddle, rolled his eyes affectionately.

Freddie approached a high table and was excited at the sea of lube bottles that lay before him.

Melon, peach, marshmallow, espresso, peppermint.

Freddie picked up the peppermint bottle, and cast a quick glimpse over his shoulder to make sure he had Jim’s attention.

Freddie flushed.

Jim was watching him with complete awe.

Totally naked, and obviously ready for some fun.

Ducking his head so Jim couldn’t see the impish grin that crossed his face, Freddie uncapped the peppermint bottle and smeared some onto his finger. He locked eyes playfully with Jim, and pushed the finger into his own body.

The peppermint zinged a little making Freddie pant. “Ooh…fresh” he gasped to Jim with humour.

With the provision of a scientist, he then returned to examining the lube bottles.

”Mmmm rose” he said, raising one perfectly sculptured eyebrow at Jim, before pouring it onto his finger, and returning it into his body, this time with a smile and a wiggle. “That tastes good” he mocked.

“Freddie, you’re killing me!” warned Jim, his eyes dark with passion, burning just visible under dropped lids. “I’m gonna come over there in a minute and….”

Freddie raised a finger. “Have patience my dear, I’m tasting them all, finding one I like” Freddie replied with faux innocence, as he pressed two fingers into his body this time, frowning in concentration. “Orange.”

Freddie turned his attention back to the table, but he didn’t remove his fingers as we worked himself open.

He knew he had Jim’s full attention, and the rush of pleasure in his chest felt like he was holding an audience of thousands.

Freddie shuddered “Ginger….oooh very zingy, maybe not” he said with a breathy laugh.

He pulled his fingers free making his own knees tremble when his eyes fell upon the fudge lube.

That was the one.

He poured it messily over his hand, and smeared it over his buttock as his hand made the journey back to his own body.

With one last glance at Jim, and his hand free, Freddie made his way shakily over to the swing.

“Think they wash these things between use?” he asked with humour, as he crawled onto the leather straps, carefully placing his hands and knees so as to avoid falling between.

He cast a cheeky glance under his arm at Jim, who had his cock in his own hand, and was stroking furiously.

Freddie had just got the straps firmly under his knees when he felt large hands grasp his hips, and a tongue pushed into his body.

He gasped for air whimpering, as he felt the strength leave his arms, and warm sensations pooled into his stomach, and down his thighs.

Freddie could feel Jim lapping, and it was so naughty, and so good, that he cried out, which became a moan when Jim withdrew.

“They all taste real good baby” Jim whispered violently, voice rough with passion.

Suddenly the swing was moving erratically beneath him, as Jim quickly climbed onto it.

Freddie curled his fingers around the straps, and felt them bite into the skin of his damaged finger ends as Jim entered him too hard and too fast.

Pulling firmly on the straps, Freddie struggled to regain some control.

He attempted to claw his way further onto the swing as Jim began thrusting at a punishing pace.

In his passion Jim collapsed bodily onto Freddie.

A large hand clasped around his own, squeezing tightly.

Freddie couldn’t move at all.

He tilted his head back and breathed deeply.

Breathed in the way that Jim had taught him to work through his panic.

It would be ok.

Freddie had after all taunted him, lured him, aroused him into such a frenzy.

He had asked for Jim’s passion – begged for it.

Freddie knew he was gifted sexually.

Had always been special since he was too young to remember.

Here he was in the spotlight.

All attention on him.

Centre stage, sex was his art.

Freddie began to feel the familiar power in his fear.

He could do this to Jim.

With his body, Freddie had the power to drive Jim to insanity.

To drive Jim passed his own insecurities, and concerns about whether Freddie was having a good time.

Despite the pain throbbing through his body, Freddie attempted to push back towards Jim, to give his lover what he needed, what he had wanted all along.

Jim was grunting loudly in his ear, and Freddie knew it wouldn’t be long.

Freddie concentrated hard.

He could hang in there, and drive his lover over the edge.

With a roar Jim reached orgasm. He collapsed entirely, breathing hard, and sweating profusely.

Freddie heard himself panting, as he buried his face beneath his arm, and waited for the ache to subside.

He could make out soft words being repeated again and again. “I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, you weren’t even close, I’m so sorry my darling. Can you ever forgive me?”


	15. Encounters: Shooting Star - Cocktails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim struggles to deal with the beast within, while Freddie just wants to have some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I laughed so hard writing this lovies 😊 😊

Freddie’s face broke into a big showman smile.

He could finally be confident that he had pleased his lover, and he felt like a million dollars.

Jim rolled onto his side panting, and Freddie felt the rush of cool air as the weight was lifted from his body.

He didn’t have the strength in his arms to push himself up, but with relief he felt Jim roll him onto his back.

He breathed deeply, and felt a wonderful sense of calm wash over him.

Jim didn’t yet have the strength to move either, he lazily cupped Freddie’s hot cheek, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

“I’m so sorry baby, are you ok?” Jim asked, stroking his thumb over Freddie’s cheekbone. “You make me crazy sometimes…..but…I’m just sorry ok?”

Freddie rolled his eyes with a smile. “I’m fine!” he insisted.

Jim propped his head up onto his hand, and looked down at Freddie’s body. Red marks were emblazoned across Freddie’s skin from the straps.

Jim was mortified.

He buried his face into Freddie’s hair. “Darling, I have no excuse…..I’m just sorry” he continued.

Feeling calm, and strangely relaxed, Freddie clasped Jim’s face between his hands and kissed him tenderly. “I’m alright darling. Don’t worry” he assured him.

Jim wrapped a long leg over Freddie, and using the straps to pull himself onto his knees, he worked his way down Freddie’s body, leaving soft little kisses on the sore spots.

A tongue flicked deliciously lower savouring every inch of his warm skin, and Freddie felt the tension finally leave his body.

He could feel himself becoming aroused once again, and he allowed his legs to part, granting Jim access to leave tender kisses to the inside of his thighs. Hot air from Jim’s breath suffusing lusciously over his skin before the kisses came.

Freddie closed his eyes and relaxed into the gentle motion of the swing as Jim finally sunk his warm lips around his cock.

Freddie could hear soft sighs escaping his own lips, as heat rushed into his stomach.

He wrapped his hands behind his head. He had earned this one.

“Can you forgive me darling?” he heard Jim mutter with his mouth full.

Freddie couldn’t resist the urge to giggle.

He sprang up suddenly when Jim held his feet “Don’t tickle!” Freddie shrieked.

Jim looked bereft, suddenly finding his mouth empty, and the two men collapsed into giggles.

“I was just going to thread your legs through the straps nutter!” protested Jim laughing. “Make you more comfortable.”

“Oh” mouthed Freddie, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

Freddie squealed as Jim grabbed his hips and dragged him back down the swing, efficiently poking his legs through the straps, making access so much easier.

Freddie groaned loudly and allowed his head to roll back as he looked down the length of his own body, to see Jim devouring him with his eyes before taking him back fully into his mouth.

“You’re going to have at least three orgasms before you leave this room” demanded Jim with his mouth full.

Freddie groaned at the thought. “Didn’t your Mama ever teach you that it’s rude to talk with your mouth full” he quipped cheekily.

Jim tapped his bottom gently through the straps, then with more urgent strokes took him to heaven.

*********************

Jim looked down at Freddie lazing happily in the swing.

He was so beautiful, and Jim could never quite bring himself to terms with how on earth Freddie was his.

He cringed when he saw the fading red strap marks on Freddie’s skin.

He was so angry with himself.

How could he have been so careless?!

He had been overcome….yes overcome….with passion for the man, and as once in the bathrooms of the London clubs, he was ashamed of his own behaviour.

When he wanted Freddie, it consumed him.

He consoled himself with the thought that when they returned to the hotel he would lather Freddie in baby lotion.

That he was different to those other men who had treated him with sexual aggression, he would care for him afterwards.

When he realised his cock was awakening again with the vision before him, he felt the bitter taste of self-doubt push its way up his throat.

Was he really all that different, or was he just an animal too?

He pushed the swing again as it began to slow, and made his way over to the lube table.

He needed to make it up to Freddie, and he needed to make it nice.

Jim chuckled to himself as he reviewed the bottles Freddie had been perusing earlier– pineapple, orange, peach.

He touched a cool bottle to Freddie’s soft cheek. “May I offer you a cocktail sir?”

Freddie giggled, and flushed deeply when he saw Jim’s arousal. “You may offer me a cock sir” he replied cheekily.

Jim laughed, turning his attention back to the table.

“What was your favourite….erm….flavour? Not that you actually tasted any of them?” Jim chuckled turning back to Freddie, who to his astonishment had wound his legs through the straps, and was swinging upside down with the grace of a seasoned gymnast.

Jim snorted, and dissolved into laughter. “Freddie, what the fuck are you doing?”

Freddie laughed breathlessly, the blood rushing to his head. “I’m assuming the position.”

Jim rushed over jokingly, cock in hand “Come on then, like that”

Freddie squealed. “No! You’ve already broken me once today.”

Jim was horrified.

Freddie reached out to him quickly “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it was a joke” he said with sincerity.

Freddie pulled Jim towards him and their lips met passionately, tongues dueling as though it was their first kiss.

The men broke apart laughing. “Kissing upside down is weird” laughed Freddie, reaching out for Jim. “I can’t get down. Help me” he giggled.

Jim struggled to straighten up himself from laughing at upside down Freddie, hanging like a bat in the air, and wondered if the manufacturer of the swing had a man with a young child trapped inside of him in mind when he drafted the prototype.

Jim grasped Freddie under his arms and pulled his shoulders against his chest. “Relax your feet, I’m gonna pull your through.”

Jim pulled carefully, but Freddie’s feet were still curled around the straps.

Jim chuckled “You call that relaxing!”

Freddie giggled.

“You know I can take your weight sweetheart, let go” Jim laughed.

Freddie faked a growl.

Jim laughed loudly. “You liked that hey?!”

Jim pulled again, and Freddie started to unravel from the straps.

His bottom made contact with the leather of the swing, when he cried “Stop there.” Freddie looked down the line of his body, legs wide and still interwoven with the straps, and nodded with satisfaction. “That is a good position.”

Jim wandered to the end of the swing to enjoy the view, and whistled.

He plucked the fudge lube from the table, and held it out to Freddie. “This one wasn’t it?”

Freddie nodded, a little apprehensive.

Jim poured a little onto his finger and put it to Freddie’s lips to taste.

Freddie licked tentatively at the lube before sucking on Jim’s finger suggestively. He couldn’t hold the sexy pose for long before his nose wrinkled. “That’s nothing like fudge, it’s revolting” he wailed.

Jim laughed and poured it generously over his cock, before returning to the foot of the swing and placing his knees carefully on the straps either side of Freddie.

Freddie gulped, he suddenly felt very exposed, and realised he couldn’t untangle his legs quickly if he needed to.

Bravely Freddie raised a finger and ordered his man “Gently!”

Jim settled with his elbows either side of Freddie’s head, and caressed his hair tenderly. “I’ll be gentle darling” he promised, as he slowly pushed inside, eyes locked with Freddie’s, as he sighed with pleasure.

It occurred to Freddie just then that he could ask Jim for that.

That he could probably ask Jim for anything, and a strange feeling settled on his chest.

A strange new sexual power.

One that would lead to both of their satisfaction. To the feeling of being cherished and adored, of being sexy and attractive, and wanted….but not frightened or embarrassed or pained.

The realisation made Freddie a little uncomfortable, but like all things new he would take great pleasure in exploring.


	16. Encounters: Shooting Star - Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Jim sets about trying to achieve a hat-trick for Freddie, Freddie analyses previous lovers, and draws some pretty important conclusions about his love life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to take this opportunity to thank my favourite gay couple – you know who you are (don’t worry, I won’t name you!) - without you answering my stream of embarrassing, and way too personal questions, this kind of ‘insight’ would not be possible 😊😊

Freddie sighed dreamily as Jim’s cock nudged at his sweet spot.

The gentle to-ing and fro-ing of the swing made little work of their actions, and the two men lie pooled together in the seat of the swing.

Freddie’s legs felt cushioned by the leather straps, and his body cradled.

Jim appeared to be in heaven, lightly touching Freddie’s face and hair, following his fingers with butterfly light kisses.

Jim grunted softly as Freddie trailed his fingers slowly down the skin of his back, finally gripping his buttocks to pull him deeper.

Freddie took a moment to examine his lover’s face.

Jim took on such a picture of bliss in these situations. Not that of a man in the height of sexual pursuit, but softer, warmer.

His expression reminded Freddie of the first time they had made love.

Like then, there was no urgency, and Freddie wished he never had to move from this place.

He felt…nice… from head to toe, warm and comfortable - and cherished - every part of him in contact with Jim’s body.

The movement of the swing had worked Jim softly into a nook. The subtle rippling of his stomach muscle brushing Freddie’s cock as he rolled his hips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, and more importantly, it wasn’t too much.

Pleasure rippled through his body.

Freddie’s head fell back, and he heard a loud sigh escape him.

“Is that good baby?” Jim whispered, the tension from his own impending climax making his voice rough.

Freddie nodded, finding that his eyes were meeting Jim’s own unabashedly.

Few men realised that Freddie was shy.

It didn’t come into question when he was in various states of inebriation, back or face to a wall, a leg held up in the air, or over a table, or a sink.

Freddie had learnt early to give a performance.

The louder he was, the more inflated his partner’s ego.

He had never made love this tenderly until he met Jim.

Jim had rocked his world.

It wasn’t always like this, there were the other times.

The hot.

The hurried.

The times in public where one or the other of them would be overcome with passion, and Freddie would suddenly find himself backed into a toilet bowl, or his pants around his ankles in a store cupboard.

The loud cries, the urgent thrusts, and the hands clutching at hot sticky flesh.

Then there was earlier.

Not to Freddie’s pleasure, but there was no denying that Jim was different to the other men.

Making love had slowed Freddie down somewhat.

His brain struggled to fire new synapses, to forge new pleasure centres, to accept that gentleness and soft touches to his face and body could bring him more pleasure than the pushing and pulling of one man, two, three at a time.

Jim had been patient.

As though Freddie’s goal was not to make Jim climax, but to stay in this state – the slow and steady climb to ecstasy.

Jim often asked Freddie what he liked in bed.

He couldn’t admit the truth – he didn’t know.

No one had ever asked him that before.

He loved everything about sex.

He loved the effect his body had on men.

He loved the way he could topple giants with a well-placed mouth.

He loved the way he felt in the spotlight.

He loved the way men liked to manhandle him.

More recently, he loved the way Jim touched him – tenderly, with care, consideration and respect.

He loved the way Jim held him afterwards.

It also scared him.

The fear, the resistance that he not only liked the way he felt, but the way he clung to Jim afterwards.

The way the tears seeped into his eyes when Jim moved from his embrace.

The coldness he felt on his skin and in his heart that Jim was leaving.

The moment Jim would turn, and actually notice the pain etched on Freddie’s face.

When he would return to the bed, and hold him a little longer.

Telling him where he was going, and how long he would be, and how important it was that Freddie tell him when he was feeling bad.

“You don’t talk to me baby, so I don’t know how you are feeling.” Jim would say.

How could Freddie ever tell him?

That no amount of affection would ever be enough.

That Jim could hold him and kiss him into next week, and it would be a drop in the ocean.

That the void he felt could never be filled.

Jim would run for the hills and never look back.

How bad it would feel the day Jim did inevitably leave.

The fear that he wouldn’t ever enjoy another man touching his body.

That those feelings would open up at the wrong time, causing Freddie to question it all.

Question his life, question things he had allowed, question if the things he couldn’t disallow had ever really been his choice.

It was all too hard.

Jim rolled his hips a little faster, increasing the speed of the swing, the pleasure intensifying though Freddie’s body as his sighs became deeper and more frequent.

Jim groaned at the pleasure on Freddie’s face

His uncanny ability to read Freddie’s body.

Jim rocked deeper inside him. “Are you close sweetheart?”

A cry caught in the back of Freddie’s throat as he clenched around Jim, deep in the swelling build to climax. “So close” he panted softly. “Ah, just there” he gasped, when Jim obliged him.

Freddie felt his body shudder. His eyes locked to Jim’s before his head rolled back, and his mouth dropped open as he was over taken. He dropped his forehead onto Jim’s shoulder as the pleasure deepened, biting down hard into the soft skin.

Jim cried out as his own pleasure overtook him, and Freddie felt his own body clench involuntarily around him as the swing continued its motion. The subtle friction on his cock making him cry out this time, head flung back.

Jim touched his forehead to Freddie’s, scattering kisses over his face as they swung back to earth.

“Freddie….” Jim began inquisitively “did you just…”

“Come again….” Freddie gasped, and nodded exhausted “yeah!”

“Good boy” whispered Jim, stroking a hand down his temple.


	17. Encounters: Shooting Star - Street Level

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chaos that has been the last 24 hours gets the better of Freddie – but not before he confesses something very special to Jim.  
Jim just doesn’t get the club scene, and takes drastic action to keep Freddie safe. Freddie is amused 😊

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support lovies 😊

Jim poked one foot outside of the strap, and pushed against the ground, keeping the swing moving gently, while Freddie recovered.

The pulse of the disco beat could be heard, but it wasn’t disruptive. It was a pleasant sound in the distance, a soundtrack to the way they felt.

“Do you like this style of music sweetheart?” Jim whispered into Freddie’s hair, softly smoothing a damp curl at his temple.

“Yeah. I like the beat. Maybe we could incorporate that into our music sometime in the future. Deaky would be up for it, he loves a boogie, but I don’t know about Roger and Brian.” Freddie giggled softly, before falling quiet.

Several moments passed.

“Can I tell you something?” Freddie whispered, burying his face in Jim’s neck.

“Anything sweetheart” Jim mumbled.

When Freddie didn’t speak for some time, Jim chuckled “Are you going to tell me you’ve lost feeling in your legs?”

Freddie shook his head. “Swing me” he demanded.

Jim exaggerated a salute, but he smiled and lazily reached out a foot to the floor to make the swing move harder.

Settling back down again, Freddie kissed his nose and wrapped his arms around Jim’s shoulders

“That was my best time….ever” Freddie whispered dreamily.

Jim looked up in amazement. “What? Our best time together, or your best time?”

“My best time…in my life” Freddie whispered.

Jim felt the blood rush into his cheeks.

From any other twenty-one year old male that could have been a throw away remark.

Perhaps it was – perhaps Freddie said that to all the boys – but there was also the other side to Freddie – the side that didn’t divulge anything.

Freddie was a veteran – a connoisseur of men.

To move Freddie to confide that much – anything in Jim - was no mean feat.

“Why darling?” Jim whispered softly, unable to simply accept the compliment.

Freddie remained silent, but Jim could feel soft breaths on his cheek.

“Why honey?” Jim repeated.

When he received no reply a second time, he raised his head and looked down into Freddie’s face. Eyes closed softly, breathing slowly.

Freddie had fallen fast asleep.

“No….no…no baby, you can’t sleep here!” Jim scattered kisses across Freddie’s face, hoping it would bring him around again.

Freddie sighed deeply, comfortably, and dropped his head onto Jim’s shoulder.

Jim pressed his lips softly to Freddie’s forehead.

Gathering him close, Jim momentarily laid back, psyching himself up for the difficult task of getting Freddie back to the hotel, showered, and into bed.

Jim had been encouraging Freddie to rest for the better part of twenty four hours, and Freddie had chosen now to submit - in a sex swing, in a gay club, in New York City.

Jim squeezed him tightly. “Oh darling, you’re so tired.”

He wished he could have thrown a blanket over them, and let him rest for a while.

***********************

Jim hoped they could slink out of the club unnoticed, but Freddie insisted on looking for John and Joe - who were nowhere to be seen.

A million sights captured Freddie’s interest between their swing paradise, and the outside world.

By the time they reached street level, Freddie was cackling like a mad thing, and wiping his streaming eyes.

“Baby brown eyes” boomed the host, stepping into Freddie’s path. “Leaving us so soon?”

Freddie couldn’t straighten his face, his laughter was infectious and soon everyone in the vestibule was laughing too.

Jim couldn’t believe that the same man who was almost impossible to rouse from sleep a few moments ago, was now the entertainment.

Realising he was holding the floor, Freddie beamed and flashed his red strapped torso to the host “I’ve taken my punishment…” he raised one eyebrow “…now I get taken home, and fucked hard.”

Jim was once again thankful for the dark, as he burned with embarrassment.

He felt a large hand clap his back “Well done Daddy, discipline where it’s due” boomed the host.

Jim wondered what sort of a world he had walked into where he was being congratulated for allegedly beating a smaller man.

Freddie turned to him, and in the dimmed lighting all Jim could see were his beautiful eyes.

A small hand clasped his “Take me home Daddy” he whispered.

Gladly, thought Jim, get me the fuck out of here.

As they made for the door, a firm hand gripped his shoulder.

“You’re a very lucky man” the host growled in his ear.

His words seemed innocuous enough, but to Jim they were laced with threat - especially when they were followed with “I could take him off you in a heartbeat.”

John Reid’s words echoed back to Jim - “Keep your eye on Freddie…he’s every fuckers wet dream.”

Jim looked the host boldly in the eye, and uncharacteristically snatched a pair of handcuffs from the desk, snapping the cuff around Freddie’s wrist, and the other around his own.

Jim quickly dragged Freddie past the speechless host, and out onto the street.

As Freddie’s squeals of laughter caught the attention of passers-by, Jim’s thoughts took a darker turn.

While Freddie could only see the fun and the opportunity to experiment, Jim could see threat everywhere.

Freddie truly did not see his worth.

How beautiful he was.

How innocent, and open, and magnetising.

How acquiescent.

Jim knew that he by contrast viewed the world through a sceptical lens.

An older man.

A police officer.

What if…

What if… Freddie had come to America without him?

*************************

“They’re a bit stingy with the blankets at this hotel honey – don’t they know who you are – quilt thief?!” Jim joked with a laugh, gathering Freddie’s own blanket and tucking it tightly over his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around Freddie’s waist and pulled him closer, tucking Freddie’s leg over his own hip.

“Are you warm enough darling?” Jim asked. In response Freddie tipped his head back in an enormous yawn, and attempted to nod.

Jim chuckled, and rubbed his knuckles over Freddie’s unnaturally hot cheek. “You’re so tired! It’s been an enormous day sweetheart. First day in New York. Having to cut handcuffs off you for the second time this year.”

Freddie giggled sleepily. "I would have been happy to keep them on."

Jim smiled to himself, they would both be asleep in minutes.

After several moments he was surprised to hear Freddie’s timid voice. “Do you mind me sleeping so close to you?”

Jim squeezed him. “Mind? Why would I mind? I love it.”

“Most men hate it” said Freddie with a small voice.

“Only the crap ones” sniped Jim, feeling his anger rise towards the men who had denied Freddie such a simple pleasure.

“I like to sleep with you tucked against my hip. I think I started to like that when we were sleeping on the sofa at your house – before we got together. I know when you’re sleeping, when you’re awake, if you’re unhappy….if you’re having a nightmare.”

Freddie giggled “When do you sleep if you’re clocking all that? Ooooh…” Freddie said suddenly wriggling down the bed.

Jim felt a gentle hand running across his hip, and curling around his cock which had gone to sleep satisfied after the club.

“What are you doing?” Jim shrieked with astonishment.

Freddie laid his head on Jim’s stomach. “You’re the best boyfriend ever, and I want to do something nice for you.” With that Jim felt hot lips surround him.

Jim chuckled and reached down a hand, wrapping it over Freddie’s. “Come on darling, you’re too tired for that, and God knows I am.”

“Uh oh…” said Freddie with his mouth full “…you’re waking up.”

Jim was in fact starting to feel stirring in that area, but it wasn’t fair on Freddie, and Jim wondered if Freddie was trying to avoid going to sleep again.

If only they could have had cosied down in the swing until Freddie had woken naturally.

“No, Freddie, come on, sleep time,” Jim said, as though talking to a young child.

He had only ever said no to Freddie’s advances once before, and it made him feel uneasy.

“Can I cuddle you instead?” he offered gently.

Freddie’s head popped up from under the blankets “You want to cuddle me instead of a blow job?” he said incredulously. “Am I losing my touch?”

Jim attempted to kiss Freddie’s lips, but he dodged the kiss and curled up with his back to Jim.

Jim waited a moment before wrapping him in a big hug, and planting the kiss loudly on his cheek. Freddie never could resist affection.

Minutes passed in silence, and Jim thought Freddie was finally sleeping, but every so often he could hear quiet sniffles.

Jim began to feel his heart pound nervously in his chest.

Was Freddie….crying?

He brushed Freddie’s hair back carefully from his face, gently rubbing his thumb under Freddie’s eye. “Are you upset baby?”

Freddie seemed startled by the question, as though he had just been woken up.

“No” he whispered, curling Jim’s fingers into his own.

The two men fell quiet for a moment, then Freddie asked, “Jim….do you really love me?”

Jim froze.

He knew refusing Freddie’s advances would have consequences.

He hadn’t expected to have to deal with them this soon.

Jim squeezed Freddie to his body as tightly as possible.

“I love you more than I can ever tell you sweetheart” he whispered.

Despite his tiredness, Jim was now wide awake waiting for the inquisition that would surely come.

He had dreaded these inevitable moments.

He and Freddie had never had a fight, but he knew that even the most loving couples did fight, and Freddie could be vicious if his feelings were hurt.

Jim steeled himself awaiting the ambush, and after several minutes of nervous anticipation he actually wished it would come, thinking it would be preferable to the stretched silence.

“Freddie” he whispered softly. “Are you sure you’re not upset?”

The answer was a soft snore.

It seemed that reassurance was all Freddie had needed.

Jim blew out the tension in a loud sigh, running his fingers through Freddie’s hair. He still felt unnaturally hot to Jim, but was obviously very comfortable.

Jim knew it would be sometime before sleep came to him now.

As he had done many times before, he began to whisper to Freddie.

He talked about the next show, the places in New York they could visit, the places he and Roger could hide Brian’s hairbrush, or Deaky’s Walkman, but mainly Jim listed the things he found most lovable about Freddie.


	18. Encounters: Shooting Star - Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim is awoken early, and is treated to another of Freddie’s skills – his artwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot will start to move shortly lovies – honest! This chapter was just lovely to write 😊

Jim wasn’t sure what he became aware of first.

The dim light peeping through his eyelids, the gentle scratch of pencil on paper, or the feeling of soft eyes on his face.

Freddie was lying on his stomach, wearing a pair of Jim’s boxers and woollen socks, kicking his buttocks with his feet.

He absentmindedly tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear as he focused intently on the page.

He tilted his head to one side, and rested the end of the pencil against his pursed lips.

He reached for his eraser, and gently removed a feint line before brushing the ends away from his page with the back of his hand.

At that moment Jim wished he could sketch, or at the very least take good photographs. By now he would have a whole portfolio of his lover.

Freddie at rest.

Freddie at play.

Freddie singing

Freddie dancing

Freddie sleeping

Freddie laughing

His favourite would be of Freddie post love making. Lips kissed red, cheeks flushed, gaze soft, body relaxed, defenseless.

At that moment, Freddie raised his glance and a smile blossomed slowly across his lips, as though he was both surprised and genuinely pleased to see Jim.

He shuffled across the bed on his elbows and met Jim’s lips softly with his, gazing into his eyes as he pulled away.

Jim felt the warmth of that kiss permeate through his sleep saturated body.

“Hello darling” said Freddie, the soft smile still lingering. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Jim smoothed the hair back from Freddie’s cheek and pressed soft kisses onto his cheek bone, feeling the flutter of eyelashes against his face.

Jim reached for Freddie’s blanket and attempted to pull it up over his shoulder, but unexpectedly Freddie pushed it away.

“Thank you darling, but I’m too warm.” Freddie wrinkled his nose cutely.

Jim placed the back of his hand to Freddie’s forehead and frowned in concern. “You are warm sweetheart. Do you feel ok?”

Freddie nodded. “Yes darling. I feel….fine….but too warm.”

Jim rolled out of bed and made his way over to the window, opening it.

A cool breeze blew in across his face.

It was pleasant, but Jim closed the window to just a small crack as he knew Freddie was nearly always cold.

It was odd that he was so warm, but he looked healthy and was glowing.

Jim made his way back towards the bed when he noticed the time on his alarm clock … 5:45 am. They had been in bed just two hours.

Freddie was wide awake, and looked as though he had been grafting for a while.

Jim picked a tiny cloth rose from an ornamental vase on the bedside cabinet, and gently tucked it behind Freddie’s ear.

Freddie beamed, catching Jim’s hand and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss.

It was during times like these that Jim wondered when he would wake up, and be back behind the bar at The Market Tavern, waiting to be drawn into a fight.

If dreams did come true - then this was Jim’s. The dream of a lifetime. The love of his life.

“Would you like a cup of tea sweetheart?” Jim asked softly.

“That would be lovely darling thank you” Freddie smiled.

**********************

Jim put the tea down on the cabinet beside Freddie, and lined the saucer with biscuits.

“Please eat those biscuits darling – for me?” Jim asked nicely.

Freddie reached out for the shortbread, taking a bite with a smile, and getting crumbs in the bed.

Jim was learning fast that Freddie was quick to brush his own needs aside, but if he thought Jim was in any way inconvenienced, he would remedy his behaviour quickly.

Jim sat down on the bed beside him. “Now then, can I see what you’ve been doing?”

Freddie uncurled the spine of his sketch pad, there must have been half a dozen sketches. Jim surmised that Freddie must have slept long enough for him to fall asleep, and then been awake again almost immediately.

How did he survive on so little sleep?

God knew that Jim couldn’t keep going like this for long.

Jim perused Freddie’s face in profile. He could see the lines under the softness. The dark circles and the strain. Freddie was in fact exhausted, but somehow contented.

Suddenly Jim became aware that Freddie’s intense brown eyes were boring into his own face. He giggled “Quit staring at me, or I’ll not let you see my sketches!”

Jim wrapped an arm around Freddie’s shoulders with a smile “Sorry love, you’re just so pretty.”

Freddie punched Jim’s shoulder with a laugh, burrowing his red face into Jim’s neck, before tearing the pages out of his book.

“I couldn’t get the club out of my mind” Freddie began. “The fashion was incredible. I loved the use of such a wide range of fabrics, and I thought the band could use those fabrics in totally different ways.”

There was nothing Jim could add.

He didn’t have a clue what Freddie was talking about, that’s not what he remembered from the club at all, but it was such a pleasure to see the light in his eyes as Freddie talked about another of his passions.

“See here, we can add braces to various styles of trousers ...” Freddie flicked though his sketches, until he found the one he was looking for “…or shorts.”

“I vote shorts” said Jim with certainty. “Those shorts you had on tonight. I thought I was going to come in my pants in the restaurant” added Jim with comical seriousness.

Freddie snorted, and buried his face in his book giggling.

Jim straightened the sketches as best he could on the pillow.

“You know Freddie, these really are very good. I know I’m biased because I love you, but your attention to detail is sublime. Look at this one – you’ve even thought about how it would look when you are moving”

“Thank you, they’re…. nothing really” Freddie kissed Jim’s cheek. His face blazing from the compliment, and blunt declaration of love.

Jim rolled onto his back, pulling Freddie with him, cradling his head against his chest.

“Now then, do you want to tell me all about the fabric you’re going to use?” Jim asked, his motive in lying Freddie down ulterior.

“I was thinking totally the opposite of what we currently use – leather, PVC, really tough fabrics….oh and candy stripes, and hats.” Freddie added with enthusiasm. “Maybe even props.”

“What will the other’s think” asked Jim quietly “Will they want to wear those do you think?”

Freddie yawned. “Not sure. Rog might. He loves the leather-look pants we got on the market stall, maybe he could just wear those – shirtless and bare foot, but…..”

Freddie lost his train of thought.

“But what darling?” asked Jim.

“We will lose our ethereal look, but we have to change sometime, it would be nice to be known as the band that evolve. I would need to talk to John, and….”

Jim scattered kisses in Freddie’s hair with a smile as he drifted off for a second time. “Night night princess.”

“Night darling” replied Freddie closing his eyes.

Grinning like the cat that got the cream, Jim flicked off the lamp.


	19. Encounters: Shooting Star - Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get together to plan the evening's show, but nobody seems to be themselves, and tempers fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear :(

“I’m just saying it’s too long Freddie….and frankly it’s fucking dark” argued Brian.

“I’m fucking dark!” Freddie spat humourlessly. “White Queen – Black Queen – a theme? Monochromatic? Equal and opposite?”

“Black Queen goes on forever Fred” reasoned Roger. “We only get twenty minutes. I still say Seven Seas and Liar, oldies but goodies.”

“But we ALWAYS do those Rog, it’s BORING darling! Let’s try something. Try something new, something that will make the Big Apple stand out from all the other shows” begged Freddie. “This is it for us boys. Our last few nights, then bye bye America. We need to stand out. Make them eat it!”

“We need to stand out for being spectacular though Fred. Black Queen has quieter sections in it. We need to deafen and blind them and leave them wanting more” yelled Roger.

“You just want Black Queen because you wrote it” muttered Brian under his breath.

“Speak up darling” spat Freddie sarcastically.

“Black Queen is too new, we haven’t practiced it, anything could go wrong” reasoned Deaky, a little irritably, hands already in the air hoping not to be fired at.

“I wrote Black Queen when I was fourteen, it’s anything but new, but thanks for your faith in me!” said Freddie, the picture of hurt. He wasn’t used to being challenged by Deaky.

Freddie waved his hands “Ok, ok…..if not Black Queen, what….WHAT? Come on, don’t shoot me down and not offer up any suggestions of your own.”

Jim approached the waring group with caution …and coffee.

“Here you go lads. Get that into you.” The coffee was accepted with groans of relief. “Seven sugars for you wasn’t it Rog?” Jim attempted some humour, and was rewarded with a smile from Roger.

Freddie took the steaming mug from Jim with thanks, then pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Jim leaned in close and asked “Are you alright darling?”

“Yes, thank you” whispered Freddie. “I’ve got a headache that’s all - and I’m too fucking hot” he screamed, causing the crew to look round. “Do something about the temperature in this room!”

“Why don’t you take a rest sweetheart?” reasoned Jim, taking his life in his hands. “Let’s have ten minutes fresh air, come on.” He attempted to steer Freddie towards the door.

“I haven’t got time darling, can’t you see what’s going on here?! We’re very unprepared.” Freddie said, with an edge to his voice.

“Brian!” Freddie suddenly yelled at his friend who’s head was also in his hands. “What’s the matter darling?”

Brian waved Freddie’s question away. “Nothing Fred. Just a headache.” Brian grimaced as he bent to open his guitar case.

“That’s not nothing dear” Freddie said rushing off to help Brian into a chair. Jim following closely behind.

“So…Brian’s headache is important enough for him to rest, but not yours?” asked Jim gently.

Freddie straightened up, a hand still on Brian’s shoulder. “Brian had hepatitis recently, or had you forgotten that dear?! His headache IS more important than mine.”

Jim raised his hands in surrender.

He could see that he was never going to win.

He also didn’t want to exhaust Freddie further by making him feel he had to fight his corner with him too.

“Freddie, I’m going to help the stage crew” Jim said gently. “Just yell if you need me.”

Freddie’s attention was already somewhere else.

“How about showcasing sections of Black Queen?” suggested Roger, hands wrapped tightly around his mug for warmth.

Brian shook his head painfully. “You can’t just rip Freddie’s song apart Rog.”

“Actually….” Freddie started to tinkle on the piano. “…that’s not a bad idea. A musical montage if you will, a medley, a pastiche…”

“Jim dear…” Freddie yelled out to his lover across the stage “….did we bring the triangle?”

When Freddie didn’t get an immediate response, he looked over to where his lover was wrongly arranging Roger’s drum kit.

“What the fuck are you doing??” he yelled irritably. “We don’t want the drums there!”

“Sorry what?” Jim yelled, from underneath an enormous base drum.

Freddie waved a hand dismissing him, and dropped his forehead dramatically onto the cool piano top.

************************

“Freddie, sweetheart, I’m being more of a hindrance than a help” Jim reasoned. “I’m going back to the hotel. I need some rest, and frankly so do you.”

When Jim received no response, he took both of Freddie’s hands in his, trying to catch his eye. Freddie was looking anywhere but at Jim, and Jim knew he was hurt by the suggestion.

“If you need me for anything, anything at all. You just call. If not, I’ll come back for you before the end of the show. I’ll be beside the stage as always” Jim offered gently.

“Just fuck off then, I knew you would leave me” snapped Freddie petulantly.

“Honey, I’m not leaving you, but this…” Jim waved his arm in the air “…is counterproductive. You’re stressed, I’m tired. You need to concentrate, I need a break. I’m getting everything wrong for you darling. After a sleep I’ll be good as new, and I’ll be here for you. OK?”

Freddie scowled, refusing to meet Jim’s eye.

Jim leaned in tentatively and kissed Freddie’s cheek.

“You’re abandoning me!” wailed Freddie.

Jim couldn’t help but snigger. His lover could be so dramatic sometimes, and always at times when he didn’t really need him. When he truly needed him, in his hour of desperation, Freddie wouldn’t ask for anything.

“I’m not abandoning you sweetheart. It’s called tactical retreat.” Jim pulled him close, but Freddie stiffened like a stubborn toddler.

Jim headed towards the door, determined to show Freddie that he would do exactly as suggested…and that included returning later as promised.

Jim would always return.

Freddie just didn’t seem to realise that, and Jim wondered why.

“Call me if you need me” called Jim, blowing Freddie a kiss.

“I won’t!” Freddie yelled after Jim’s back.

Jim would never dare to laugh, but he allowed himself to smile inside.

Freddie was such a obstinate little thing when he wanted to be, and that temper…..phew!

Jim’s mind idly wondered what Freddie would be like in bed in a temper such as this.

He couldn’t help it…a smile sneaked out.

A smile that was wiped off his face the moment he heard Freddie whoop with joy, and turned to see his arms wrapped around Joe.

*********************

Jim heard the hotel room door slam from where he was napping in front of the television.

He wandered out into the hallway curiously, to see Freddie slumped on his bottom with his back to the door.

Freddie was still shimmering in his sleek black stage costume, but in the place of a sparky little diamond, was a defeated sweaty little mite.

His face bright red, his make up running.

Despite his concern, Jim smiled softly.

He couldn’t help himself.

When things weren’t great, Freddie hadn’t run off to the nearest club like he used to. He had come home to Jim, and it made him proud as punch.

“Come here” he said, scooping Freddie up into his arms, and striding towards the bedroom.

He pulled back the crisp duvet, and dropped Freddie onto the cool mattress, unzipping his platform boots, pulling them off his feet and sliding his legs into the bed.

Jim laid the back of his hand to a sweaty cheek.

“My God! You’re burning up honey” Jim said with concern.

“Jim….I don’t feel well today” Freddie croaked, the last of his voice used up on stage.

Jim chuckled at the statement of the obvious. “No sweetheart, I’ll bet you don’t.” Jim swept his hair back, and pressed a soft kiss to his damp forehead.

“Let’s get you out of ….what is this?” Jim asked quizzically, an eyebrow raised, pulling at the fabric of Freddie’s slinky costume. He followed the fabric all the way down Freddie’s body looking for a fastening of some kind. “Where does it end?”

“It’s my leotard” Freddie whispered, as though Jim were stupid.

“Ok, little ballerina. Let’s get you out of your leotard, and cooled off a bit” Jim soothed.

Jim slid the leotard off Freddie’s shoulders, and down his arms, getting no help from a very limp Freddie.

Jim touched a hand to his skin as he worked his way down. Freddie was much too hot, and Jim was starting to worry.

Once out of his leotard, and down to a skimpy thong – which still turned Jim on despite the condition of its owner – Freddie didn’t appear to be any cooler.

“Is it alright if I take this off sweetheart?” Jim asked softly.

Freddie nodded, but no humorous quip followed, no cheeky comment about Jim trying to get him naked, and Jim was more concerned than ever.

He rushed to the bathroom and returned with a cool damp flannel, rubbing the refreshing coolness over Freddie’s glistening skin, before returning with another one for his forehead.

Jim rifled quickly through the drawers, cursing when he saw Freddie’s clothes strewn over a chair – the worn and the clean mingled together.

That was his job.

He was being remiss.

He needed to pull himself out of his own lethargy, and do his job better.

For now, Jim selected a clean pair of his own boxers and shuffled them up Freddie’s legs and over his hips. He rolled the waistband over a few times, smiling to himself with how his own clothes dwarfed his dainty lover.

Jim returned his attention back to Freddie’s face, attempting to remove his make up at the same time as cool him off with the flannel.

Freddie was already slipping into sleep, and Jim was troubled by his high temperature. He would have preferred to have got some paracetamol into Freddie before he slept.

Freddie jumped when there was a loud knock on the door.

Jim cursed under his breath, but softened when he opened the door to see Roger looking little better than Freddie.

Stripped to his jeans and sweating profusely, Roger used the door frame to hold himself upright.

“Freddie’s sick” he gasped. “He disappeared after the show. We don’t know where he is.”

Jim waved an arm over to the bedroom with a smile. “I’ve got him. He’s tucked up in bed. He came straight home from the show. Come in Rog. You don’t look so good yourself.”

“No, I feel shit. All of Mott are down with it too. Brian and Deaky are doing better than Fred, but they are also feeling shit. Deaky had a headache all the way through the show – said he thought he was going to pass out every time I beat the drum, but he still wanted his post show pint.” Roger attempted a grin.

“Roggie” Freddie cried weakly from the bed. “Come in. Come talk to me. I’m poorly.”

Roger tried to step over the threshold, but the room span and he unexpectedly vomited down the door frame.

He crouched over, one hand over his mouth in shock. “I’m so sorry mate. What a dick!”

Jim shook his head. “These things happen, I’ll sort it. Come on. Into the bed with Freddie. It’s a huge bed. There’s loads of room.”

********************

Jim was just straightening up to take his disinfectant filled bucket back to the bathroom, when there was another urgent knock on the door.

Jim cursed, and wondered how many members of Queen he could pack into one bed.

He was just considering putting the ‘do not disturb’ hanger on the door knob, when the urgent knock came again.

Jim opened the door to admit a rather harried John Reid.

“They’re all sick Hutton” John barked, grimacing at the pail in Jim’s hand. “All of them. Mott as well. Ian can’t produce a sound between the vomiting.”

“Freddie and Roger are in the bedroom…” said Jim. “…Freddie is fevered, and Roger is vomiting.”

Jim rushed into the bathroom to dispose of the bucket, and wash his hands.

“I haven’t seen either Brian or Deaky….” Jim called from the bathroom, “…but Roger said both were unwell, but had still gone for a pint.”

Jim was reluctant to show John into the bedroom, knowing that Freddie would be mortified that his manager would see him in anything other than a professional light – when he was sober at least - but John was already striding towards the bedroom door.

Jim rushed on ahead, wanting to get into their private space first. Freddie could be very defensive of his privacy – and oddly skittish if he was resting.

Jim pushed on the door softly, and popped his head around it.

The boys were fast asleep.

Heads together.

Hands on top of the sheet, clasped in one another’s.

Jim tilted his head, and felt his heart melt at the peaceful sight.

“Awwww” he muttered softly, pushing the door open so that John could see the boys.

John placed his hands on his hips and shook his head with amusement.

“You’re a sick man Hutton. I’m supposed to market them as a rock band!” he grumbled. He couldn’t fight off a smile though.

***********************

“So – what are we dealing with?” said John, his business mask snapping promptly back into place. “Do we need a doctor?”

Suddenly Freddie struggled into a sitting position.

“I don’t need a doctor. I can still sing!” he cried pitifully, his face scrunching in frustration when his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

“Really Freddie?!” John said sarcastically, cocking one eyebrow.

“Yes, Ian sings as well as you right now. You’re being stupid man.” John squeezed Freddie’s shoulder affectionately, and his tone softened. “Feel better Freddie, and don’t worry about a thing. That’s what I’m here for.”

Jim accompanied John back to the door.

“What’s the plan John?” he asked.

“I need to cancel the next two nights…” John said matter of fact. “….see how we go from there. Maybe we can add the nights back on at the end of the tour – depending on availability of the venues. It’s shit, but we don’t deal with robots. Instruments can be swapped out – voices can’t.”

Jim knew that Freddie’s heart would break.

John prodded Jim’s chest. “Your job Hutton, get him well.”

Jim saluted him.

Dispensing with polite custom, John swept down the corridor.

“Bye then” whispered Jim sarcastically.

**************************

Jim closed the door softly, and headed back to the bedroom.

Freddie had laid back down, and his eyes were closed peacefully.

Jim couldn’t help himself, he sat down carefully on the bed and watched his sick lover sleeping, snuggled into the back of his best friend.

Even in sickness he was beautiful.

Lips redder than he had ever seen.

High cheekbones flushed with fever.

Hair curling with dampness.

Jim picked up the phone and quietly ordered three mugs of milk and honey.

It would be a losing battle to try to get any food into Freddie tonight.

Jim knew that Roger would not keep his hunger to himself when he was feeling better, but Freddie was another challenge altogether.

Jim had a quick shower and threw on fresh shorts and a t shirt.

He wouldn’t be going out again this evening. His time would be spent at the hotel caring for the boys.

Jim tenderly dabbed a fresh cool flannel on Freddie’s forehead, but felt evil when Freddie pushed his hand away muttering “Cold. Stop it.”

Freddie opened his fevered eyes and said “Poor Roggie, he’s so poorly.”

Once again Jim felt his heart melt.

What would he do with him? The sweetest man alive, who despite feeling so unwell himself, thought only of his best friend.

Jim longed to climb into the bed beside Freddie.

Spend the night curled around him, but he couldn’t freak Roger out. 

Jim nearly laughed out loud into the silence. He could imagine Roger’s face when he awoke in the morning to find himself in bed with two men – and still sober!

Jim spotted Freddie’s blanket on the sofa.

He got up slowly so as to not wake the boys, and perched on the end of the sofa while he rolled up Freddie’s blanket.

Jim tucked the rolled up blanket down the bed tightly against Freddie’s back. Hopefully if he was to stir, he would at least feel warm and secure, and would go back to sleep.

“Feel better little one” Jim whispered, smiling down at him one last time before wearily climbing onto the sofa.


	20. Encounters: Shooting Star - Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim struggles once again with jealousy, as Joe persuades Freddie to show his costume designs to the right people. But is that really the full extent of the couple’s problems?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was imagining grown up Freddie’s real life reaction to Jim getting him ready to go out!! 😊 😊

“Coffee?”

“Huh?” Jim opened his eyes to see a blurry Roger standing over him with a steaming mug, and a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

Jim wiped a hand over his eyes and struggled to sit up, becoming aware of how cold he felt.

He yawned widely. “Freddie?” he asked.

“No… Roger. Pleased to meet you” Roger said with a laugh, before pointing at the bathroom door. “Fred’s in the shower.”

“Is that my toothbrush?” asked Jim.

Roger shook his head with a foamy smile. “No. This is Freddie’s spare toothbrush. Freddie is using your toothbrush.”

Jim rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile. Next time he popped to the shops he would replace Freddie’s toothbrush with a pink one. He’d see the fun in that.

“How you feeling Rog?” inquired Jim.

“Like a bear’s arse” said Roger before belching loudly. “…but better than yesterday.”

“Have you heard from Brian and Deaky?” asked Jim, not remembering a time that all four members of Queen had been apart for so long.

“Yeah, they’ve gone back to last night’s venue to pick up our gear. They’ve both got cold, but they’re not dying like me and Fred” he groaned.

Suddenly it made sense why Roger and Freddie were such good friends – Roger also had a penchant for the dramatic. He may not have been his usual sunny self, but he was far from dying.

“Oh, by the way, Freddie asked me to tell you that John Reid is on his way over to pick him up” said Roger.

“Why? Where’s Freddie off to?” asked Jim, as Freddie made an appearance.

Dressed in leather trousers, a soft cotton t-shirt, and barefoot, Freddie looked a million dollars – if you didn’t look too closely at his red nose and droopy eyes.

“Good Morning darling” croaked Freddie, stopping to brace himself with one hand on Jim’s shoulder while he sneezed.

“Bless you” said Jim. “I want a kiss.”

“I’m snotty” said Freddie

“I still want a kiss” said Jim.

Freddie wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist, burrowing into his chest. “You may have a cuddle instead. I don’t want you to get sick too.”

Jim wrapped his arms around Freddie, dropping a kiss onto his head.

“Roger says we’re going out with John, where are we off to sweetheart?” Jim inquired, wondering what he needed to wear.

“I asked Joe to take a look at my sketches. He suggested to John that he take me to a local tailor to get my designs made up cheaply - just to see if they work” Freddie said shyly.

“Oh well done Freddie!” Jim cooed, despite the envy burning inside of him.

He had been trying to persuade Freddie to show the right people his designs, but Freddie had been so unsure.

The only thing he had been certain of is that they were not good enough.

Clearly Jim’s opinion was not good enough either.

Despite himself, Jim squeezed Freddie tightly to him.

“Have I time to finish my coffee and have a shower?” he asked.

Freddie waved away Jim’s offer. “No darling, you don’t need to come. I’m so sorry about yesterday. You’re so tired and you look after me so well, and when you asked to rest I roasted you for it. You stay here, we won’t be long. Have a couple of hours to yourself. Have a bath. Watch some TV.”

“Oh well, if you don’t want me around!” Jim snapped before he had time to censor himself.

Freddie was horrified, and stretched out his arms to Jim.

“No! No! I didn’t mean it like that. Of course you may come if you want too, I just meant you don’t HAVE to come darling. I’d never abandon you” Freddie assured him.

Jim forced laughter. “I was joking sweetheart. You go, and have a good time. I’ll get your clothes organised. Shall I send your blanket to the laundry?”

“No!” yelled Freddie, horrified, one hand clasped to his chest. “They won’t do it right! I have a special fabric softener for my blanket. I like my blanket to smell of violets.”

Jim held up his hands. “It’s alright sweetheart, don’t worry, it was just a thought.”

Jim was so relieved he had asked the question. He was going to surprise Freddie by having his blanket cleaned, but obviously he had dodged a bullet.

“Which designs are you taking?” asked Jim, desperate to recover from his faux pas.

Freddie picked up his sketchpad, and pulled out the pages he had torn from the book the previous day.

“Well, I’m going with your suggestion, and I have chosen two shorts designs, and one kimono. I really like this. I don’t know when I would wear it, but I can feel the softness of the fabric just by looking at the sketch.” Freddie giggled “Perhaps I will wear this for a strip tease.”

Jim felt hot all over.

As Freddie turned the page again Jim caught sight of the outline of a figure, partially coloured, partially shaded.

Freddie attempted to turn the page quickly, but Jim was faster - sandwiching his hand between the pages. “And what is this?” he asked with a smile.

Freddie blushed, and tried to turn the page again.

Jim wrapped a long arm around Freddie’s waist and tickled him. “No, let me see.”

Freddie giggled. “Ok, but you woke up….and well ….it’s not finished!”

Freddie reluctantly passed the sketch pad to Jim.

The page fell open to reveal a portrait of a man.

An attractive man sleeping.

His features softened, one arm slung across his chest as though he had been reaching out for his lover, but sleep had caught him short.

“W-who is this?” Jim stuttered.

The sketch truly was beautiful. Soft, warm, and full of love.

“That’s you, you fool!” Freddie laughed, slapping his thigh at Jim’s dimness.

Freddie’s laugh was contagious, and despite himself Jim couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Do I look like that?” Jim squeaked. “You look upon me very kindly Freddie!”

Freddie blushed again “I….I ….think you are beautiful” he said softly, not quite managing to meet Jim’s eyes.

“Wait! Is this what you were drawing when I woke up the other morning – me sleeping?”

Freddie nodded.

“Is this how you see me?” It was Jim’s turn to blush. Freddie nodded again.

Jim couldn’t find the words.

He pulled Freddie to him, and for several minutes could not let go.

*******************

There was a knock on the door, and Freddie immediately swung it open.

“Entre” he said with a fun sweeping bow, ending with a loud dramatic sneeze.

John looked upon Freddie as one would a court jester.

“Are we ready?” asked John, looking Jim up and down in his t-shirt and boxers.

Jim took a sip of his coffee.

“Just you and Freddie today mate. I’m on laundry duty.” Jim gestured to the pile of clothing slipping from the chair.

Jim turned to Freddie, tucking his hair behind his ears. “Are you sure you are well enough to go?” he asked earnestly.

Freddie nodded.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along too? I can bring you home if you get too tired?”

Freddie shook his head. “Thank you darling, but you need to rest too.”

“Where’s your jacket please?” continued Jim

Freddie shook his head “I’m warm.”

Jim looked at him sternly “Where’s your jacket please?” he repeated.

Freddie was dumbstruck when he found himself pointing to his leather jacket hanging on the back of the door, instead of telling his inquisitor to fuck off.

Freddie hadn’t been parented since he was eight years old.

Jim raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes towards the jacket.

Freddie meekly picked up the jacket and slipped his arms in.

Jim tucked a clean handkerchief in the top pocket before wrapping him in a huge hug “I’ll miss you little one.”

“For fucks sake Hutton!” John rolled his eyes. “We’ll be a couple of hours!”

“It’s a big city. He’s precious, look after him” said Jim with a smile – but he wasn’t entirely joking.

*********************

Dark eyes fixed on the two men as they headed toward the stairs, heads together chattering.

He watched them go, half hidden by the door frame.

Waiting.

Paper in hand.

Biding his time.

Praying his quivering hand would still.


	21. Encounters: Shooting Star - Misdirection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim finds himself alone for the first time since arriving in America, and it gives him some time to reflect – but to what end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think lovies – is Jim controlling and possessive, or does he just care ?

Jim felt oddly unbalanced without Freddie.

Roger had stayed for another cup of coffee. The two men had watched some car racing on TV before Roger suddenly remembered that his own room would be Brian - free, and he excused himself.

They had also talked a little about Freddie.

Jim had been desperate to use Roger as a source of information about his secretive lover, but he had restrained himself, sticking only to the subjects that Roger had raised.

Half of Jim wanted to know how he could win.

How he could gain Freddie’s attention and trust for the long haul, and rid himself of the competition – such as Joe.

The other half remembered the last time he had meddled in Freddie’s private affairs – albeit not intentionally – but Jim had brought himself nothing but heartache.

It was nice to have an easy relationship with Roger though, and Jim was thrilled with how far they had come from the days of Paul Prenter and Bill Reid.

Jim was Freddie’s boyfriend AND trusted by Roger – roles which were usually mutually exclusive - and that was an enormous compliment.

***********************

Jim smiled as he looked around the room that he and Freddie shared.

It looked like a natural disaster had taken place.

It was a good thing that Freddie had been too sick to care.

Freddie was very neat, and hated mess – anything less than perfect – anything that made him feel out of control.

Jim noticed their bags still stacked just inside the room.

Zips pulled halfway across where they had dragged items out without fully opening the bags, never mind unpacking them.

Jim picked up Freddie’s heavy leather toiletry case, and headed towards the bathroom.

He would arrange Freddie’s toiletries how he liked them.

He would line them up so that Freddie could see the labels while he was in the shower. He often decided upon a difference fragrance - having already started showering, or washing his hair.

Jim chuckled to himself when he saw the state of the bathroom. It looked like a pod of dolphins had taken a bath.

Jim’s own toothbrush lay wet on the side next to his tube of toothpaste that had been haphazardly squeezed until this morning. Now it was perfectly symmetrical.

His razor was hanging on it’s little stand, but there was a tiny pool of water just beneath belying the fact that Freddie had used his own – which was nowhere to be seen.

The small bin was crammed full with used tissues, but not one was left lying on the side, or on the floor.

Jim suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

Should he have turned Freddie around and marched his poorly arse back to bed?

Was he even well enough to be out and about – especially wearing such light clothing?

Should he have been kept warm, and silent to rest his voice for the shows that lie ahead?

Should Jim have insisted he spent the day in bed?

Not that insisting ever got him anywhere with Freddie when he was excited to do something – but perhaps pampering and pandering would have.

Jim turned and noticed a small heart carved into the steam on the mirror. Inside the heart was a tiny letter J.

Jim’s insecure mind wondered if the letter stood for Joe.

He shook his head trying desperately to dismiss the thought.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion. It would get him nowhere.

Jim returned to the living room for his own rucksack.

He didn’t see the slip of pink paper pushed just under the door.

It would be some time before he did.

*********************

Jamie sat on an overstuffed sofa in the stairwell of the grand hotel.

He had played every moment over in his head.

He had followed the boys – first the band - back to their room, then Freddie and the minder when they had finally arrived back from the club in the early hours of the morning.

He knew which were their rooms.

He had timed himself walking from reception. Using the stairs. Using the elevator.

There were too many variables as it was, but he hadn’t factored in feeling ominous in such opulent surroundings.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth nervously, as he looked at his watch once more.

He had been reassured by how easily what he had thought would be the hardest part of his plan had fallen into place. The minder was alone.

Jamie hadn’t had to do anything.

The fact convinced him that his plan was true and just – meant to be.

Freddie had surprised him.

Wondering off with that other man so readily.

The man with the strong accent.

Jamie had thought it would be almost impossible to get the minder alone.

Freddie had done the work for him.

The bait had been planted.

Now all Jamie had to do was wait.

Wait for Freddie to return.

Wait for the violence – which would surely come – the minder had admitted he would beat Freddie for flirting with the blonde at dinner the other night.

Wait for one or the other of them to flee from the room.

They couldn’t leave the hotel without been seen by Jamie – whether they took the stairs or the elevator.

He’d made sure of it.

He just had to wait.

Either Freddie would flee, or the minder would.

They would be apart.

Jamie hadn’t anticipated Roger returning to his room in the middle of the day.

Jamie had nearly been caught – but he hadn’t.

Jamie jumped when an unknown man had appeared at the top of the stairs. He had nearly fled, but he didn’t.

He stood his ground.

He waited.

It would all be worth it …when Freddie was his.

******************************

The kettle boiled, and Jim pulled the tab back on the third tiny milk carton.

They really were pointless those little milks. Ideally Jim needed six to make a decent coffee, and if Freddie wasn’t running a little low on teabags, he would have considered making a pot of Earl Grey.

When Freddie returned, Jim would pop to the shops and replenish their stock. Freddie ate little enough as it was, Jim needed a stock of tea and biscuits. He could always tempt him with those.

Jim wandered to the window.

He had never been a man who needed company.

He liked company, but he didn’t need it.

He could stay home for the evening without needing to call a friend.

He could watch a movie, or read the paper by himself, but suddenly he felt out of balance - like a dog walking on just two legs.

He was lonely without Freddie.

The other half of himself.

The hotel was nice enough. The room was clean and comfortable, but without Freddie in it, it was just a room.

For such a petite man, Freddie’s aura was enormous.

Freddie entered a room, and the negativity left. The room would suddenly be full, bright, warm and energised. Carefree, but busy. Elegant. The air crackled with joy and humour, and love.

Even in ill-health, the world seemed to gravitate towards him.

When Freddie had been mute, he could be heard via other senses.

Jim would never forget that first illicit kiss he and Freddie had shared on the beach at Brighton. The passion that had exploded from that tiny little body that had never been re-bottled. It was out in the universe, and it had surrounded Jim.

While waiting for his coffee to cool, Jim made his way back over to the doorway to retrieve the last of the bags. He would have his cuppa, then take the laundry down to concierge. Perhaps Freddie would be back by then.

“Huh?” Jim mumbled to himself, as he bent to pick up a small piece of pink paper that was slotted just under the door.

The note didn’t appear to be addressed to either himself or Freddie, so Jim felt comfortable unfolding it, and he begin to read.

Jim’s eyes quickly scanned the swirl of letters.

He staggered backwards, clutching the door frame as he read the content of the note, one hand curled tightly to his chest.

Suddenly everything fell into place.

The atmosphere.

The awkwardness between the two men.

The way Freddie avoided him when they were in company.

The tiny J on the mirror hadn’t stood for Jim….or Joe.

It had stood for Jamie.

*********************************

“Hi honey I’m home, and I have the costumes.” Freddie cried excitedly. “They have been made to fit me! I can’t believe John actually liked me in them, and the seamstress said she had never seen such well-drawn designs – I think she was just being polite though.”

Freddie’s excited chatter ceased momentarily as he was overtaken by a hacking cough.

“Jim, darling….. are you here? Are you in the bath? Are you ….naked? Say yes!” Freddie giggled.

Jim appeared from the bedroom, a piece of paper in his outstretched hand.

His face was stone cold.


	22. Encounters: Shooting Star - Stone Cold Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim confronts Freddie about the letter, but he’s not in a listening mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry lovies ☹

“You won’t fucking tell me what you want, so you just get it from someone else – is that easier for you?” Jim sniped coldly.

Freddie closed the door softly behind him, and froze just inside the room.

The excitement on his face sliding into fear, when his eyes met Jim’s. The expression was one he had never seen before on his gentle lover’s face.

“What is that?” Freddie asked tentatively.

“I can’t wait to hold you close to me” Jim read aloud from the piece of paper. “There was so much promise in your last kiss goodbye.”

Jim screwed the letter into a ball and threw it to the floor at Freddie’s feet.

“Freddie, it’s there! It’s all there.” Jim shouted pointing at the paper.

Freddie didn’t dare take his eyes from Jim’s face as he slid down the door to get the paper.

Desperate to see for himself what had upset Jim so greatly.

“Don’t look at me like that” Jim shook his finger at Freddie. “I’ve never fucking hurt you. Just tell me the truth, that’s all I’m asking for!”

The paper remained in Freddie’s hand, unopened, unread.

His heart thumped in his chest.

He didn’t understand.

There had to be some kind of a mistake.

Jim was his whole world.

Freddie snatched glances at the paper as he unscrewed it, straightening the paper enough to see his own name written at the top of the page, with a love heart scrawled around it.

He dropped the letter to the ground as though it had burnt his fingers.

Freddie looked back up at Jim and immediately felt the space between them.

They were never apart, if they were in the same space, they were touching.

Freddie reached a tentative hand out to Jim, trying to convey his thoughts.

Jim pushed his hand away “Don’t fucking touch me! Not when you’ve been touching him.”

Freddie started to shake.

He felt the vibration rise from his feet, up his body, lodging in his chest, burning painfully with unspoken emotion.

He felt a single tear run down his cheek, but he couldn’t bear to break eye contact with Jim long enough to wipe it away. It was the only contact remaining between them, and it felt fragile, like it was frayed, and could snap at any moment.

Freddie opened his mouth, but the words were stuck somewhere in his throat.

The words that were feeble, the words that contained no evidence of his innocence whatsoever.

His enemy – the unknown person who was cruelly hurting his Jim to set him up for some unknown reason - had the words, he had the letter, it was a written document.

Freddie tried once more to reach out for Jim, to make contact, to build a bridge.

He couldn’t communicate like this.

It hurt too much.

He was so confused. It was too painful to make sense of the rush in his head.

Jim pushed his hand away “No! Talk to me. Tell me why. Tell me why I’m not enough for you? Tell me to my face!” Jim thundered. “Well? Aren’t I enough for you? Aren’t WE enough? You and I together?” Jim’s voice crackled with emotion.

Freddie gasped, he moved his lips but made no sound, he couldn’t move his feet.

He couldn’t bridge the gap.

It was too wide, and he could feel Jim slipping away.

Everything they had together, the good times, the love… it was fading from his grasp, like he always knew it would.

Like it always did.

They had lasted longer than Freddie had dared to hope, but it had only been a matter of time before Jim realised he was worthless.

Saw him in the same way that all the others had.

“You can’t tell me, can you?” Jim bellowed sarcastically. “You can’t tell me it’s a lie, because you know it’s the truth. Just tell me why Freddie? You are EVERYTHING to me? What am I to you? Am I just sex? Somewhere to get a good fuck, and when you don’t get enough you just move on? Is enough ever enough for you? Is there anything else you even want? You know, I have never even heard you say you love me. I bend over backwards every day to show you I love you so fucking much, and I never hear it – not once.”

That was one thought Freddie could process.

One certainty he knew to be true.

“I d-do l-love you” he stammered.

Jim threw his hands up in the air. “Don’t fucking bother. Too little too late.”

Jim swept passed Freddie, who held his hands out to stop him.

To stop the man he loved more than anything in life from walking away.

He heard the door slam in his heart, before he heard it slammed into the frame.


	23. Encounters: Shooting Star - Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie is surprised to find Jamie on his doorstep with an invitation from Jim. He’s not comfortable in Jamie’s company – but he can’t keep Jim waiting can he?  
Jim is not the only person to receive a note that day…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Boys :(

There was a timid knock on the door.

That wasn’t Jim’s knock.

Jim would knock more firmly.

Jim wouldn’t knock on his own door at all.

Freddie tried to raise his head from the bed, but it hurt, and the room was hazy.

Several empty liquor bottles came into view, then the realisation that the mini bar door was still open.

A smudge of pink, as the letter Freddie had tried to write for Jim sneaked into his eye line.

The paper damp from his tears.

The knock came again.

A little more commanding this time.

Maybe in his anger Jim had forgotten his key.

Freddie wiped his sleeve across his eyes, cursing the makeup that was now all over his arm, and no doubt his face.

Slowly Freddie crawled to the edge of the bed on his tummy, and tried to stand.

The room span.

He had drank far more than he thought.

So much so, he opened the door without first checking who was on the other side.

He opened it a crack, and peered out cautiously.

“Jamie?” Freddie whispered, surprised to see the man standing at his doorstep.

“Hi Freddie” Jamie said with a bright smile. “Your boyfriend sent me to get you. We’re all going out….to a party. Come on, grab your jacket?”

“Jim?” Freddie’s heart thumped in his chest.

Was there a sliver of hope?

Was there a chance that Jim would forgive him?

Would he give Freddie a chance to explain?

To ask questions of his own?

“I didn’t think Jim would want….” Freddie’s voice trailed off, not quite finishing his thought. “Where is he? Actually….” Freddie hesitated, intuitively not comfortable with going anywhere alone with the man on his doorstep “…I might just wait. Would you ask him to come and get me please?”

Freddie tried to close the door, but Jamie’s foot was in the way.

“Come on…” Jamie coaxed. “Jim’s already out with the boys. He’s not coming all the way back here to get you. You’ve got legs haven’t you…” Jamie’s eyes worked their way slowly down the curve of Freddie’s body. “…very nice legs actually.”

Freddie giggled, and ran a hand over his tired face. “I’m a bit drunk” he slurred.

“Come on then” insisted Jamie, boldly grabbing Freddie’s wrist. “Let’s not keep a good night waiting.”

Freddie hesitated.

He would much prefer Jim to come and get him.

Then again Jim was always telling Freddie to be bolder, he would do anything to make Jim smile again.

Maybe Jim would be proud and excited that Freddie had made his way to a strangers party under his own steam.

Maybe Jim would realise that he did love him after all.

He timidly put one foot outside of the door, then turned back to look into the room - the scene of the crime.

Freddie really did not want to go with Jamie, but to stay alone at the hotel - in the room that he and Jim shared - was no choice at all.

Jim was waiting. He had to take a chance

Maybe he wanted to make up, and Freddie was wasting precious time.

“OK” he said, grabbing his jacket and dashing out into the hallway, before he could change his mind.

*********************

“Roger!” Brian called, over the hiss of the shower.

He knocked on the bathroom door, and pushed it open “Roger!!”

Still no response.

Brian inched back the curtain and thrust the note around to get Roger’s attention.

“Is this a joke? Don’t you ever look at the fucking mail?” yelled Brian.

Sharing a room wasn’t working so well for Brian and Roger.

Deaky seemed oblivious most of the time, but Brian and Roger were just too different.

“Brian, I’m in the fucking shower. Don’t just barge in!” he snapped angrily. “Might have been having a wank, now piss off.”

“I’ve got your singer. Don’t bother looking for him. I care for him more than any of you ever will” Brian read sarcastically from the note in his hand.

The shower stopped immediately.

The curtain was flung back, and a naked Roger snatched the note from Brian’s hand, not even attempting to cover his modesty.

“Are you fucking serious?! Don’t just stand there then. You’re dressed. Come on, let’s go and check on Fred.”

“You mean to say you didn’t know about this?” Brian eyebrows hit the ceiling. “This note is PINK Roger – and it must have been pushed under the door when you got back!”

Roger gravely shook his head, turning very pale. “Of course I didn’t fucking know about it!” he growled. “Do you think I’d just casually take a shower if I did?! This had better be a bad joke. Where’s Deaky? Where’s Jim?” barked Roger.

“Deaky is in reception calling Veronica. I haven’t seen Jim today, but he rarely lets Freddie out of his sight. Unless he’s with us of course” reasoned Brian.

“Come on, less chat” Roger wrapped a towel around his waist, and still dripping wet, strode towards the door.

*******************

Brian and Roger hammered on Freddie and Jim’s door.

It took a couple of moments but eventually they heard a quiet “Just a minute” from within the room.

They looked at each other with relief – Jim was home – if Jim was there, Freddie would be there too.

After what felt like an eternity, the door slowly opened.

Jim did not look like himself.

He looked exhausted.

He was pale and worn, and his eyes were red rimmed as though he had been crying.

The boys looked at each other, then their eyes fell to the paper in Jim’s hand.

He was also holding a pink note.

Brian pointed to the note “What’s that?” he inquired.

Jim shook his head sadly. “It’s Freddie. We had an argument. He must have gone out.” Jim opened the door wider. “Sorry lads, I’m not good company, but you can come in.”

“Freddie – a fight? With you? Are you sure? Fred doesn’t fight with his boyfriends, they fight with him – remember Bill Reid?! Fred can be a prima donna Jim, but he doesn’t stay angry….are you sure?” repeated Roger astonished.

“Well…it’s not that we had a fight ….so much as I lost my shit at him. Oh God…” Jim shook his head violently “I said some horrible things, and I can never take them back. I accused him of cheating – but in the most horrible confronting way. It’s just….he doesn’t talk you know. My fucking head ran away with me, and ….oh God…the look in his eye….”

Jim turned away with a sniff as though he was fighting back tears.

This was not the Jim the boys knew.

Jim always knew the best course of action for everything.

Brian suddenly felt very nervous. “Where is Freddie, Jim?”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t know. When I got back the minibar was open, there were empty spirit bottles on the bed….oh God…he’s paralytic somewhere isn’t he?! He left this note.”

Roger took the note, and started to read it aloud.

“Darling Jim, you make me the happiest I have ever been. All my love, your Freddie….” well what’s wrong with that? He’s forgiven you.”

“Has he? Where is he then?” Jim’s hands were in his hair. “I can’t forgive myself! I yelled at him. Can you believe it, I yelled at Freddie!”

The butterflies in Brian’s stomach had laid eggs and hatched.

“Jim. I want you to think, and I want you to tell me when you last saw Freddie, and where you think he could be now?”

“Erm….” He started vaguely.

Brian wanted to shake the man. He wasn’t the efficient Jim they knew and loved.

“Well Freddie came back after being with John Reid…about five thirty? We fought, and I walked out at about five forty….”

“So, about three hours? I want you to think, who is likely to know where Freddie could be right now?” said Brian sternly.

His tone causing Jim to be more concerned.

“Well, discounting you two, only Deaky, Joe, and John….or maybe he’s out with Mott?” said Jim.

Brian shook his head. “You know what he’s like, he wouldn’t have gone without us…and he has to be prized away from you.”

Jim suddenly looked horrified.

“He went out alone once remember….after his horrible break up with Prenter. The night he brought Reid back” said Jim weepily.

Roger scowled at Brian “Just tell him about the fucking note already!”

Brian scowled back. “Thanks Rog, I wanted to exhaust every possibility before alarming Jim unnecessarily.”

“No! You’re wasting fucking time. Jim can help” snapped Roger.

“Jim’s not Inspector Cluedo for fucks sake!” Brian snapped back.

He desperately needed some time away from Roger. He valued their friendship so much more than this.

“What letter?” Jim asked quietly.

Brian wished he would get with the program.

Roger held the letter up in front of Jim’s face.

Jim read the words, and a chill rooted him to the spot.

Immediately - and more importantly - he recognised the cursive style; the flow of letters, almost Italic, but the tone was completely different to the letter he’d received.

The tone in this note suggested control, power, coercion, instead of cohesion.

Jim held up a finger, and headed into the bedroom. He returned moments later with a screwed up ball of pink paper.

The note that had been posted under his own door.

The note that was clearly and boldly signed - Jamie.


	24. Encounters: Shooting Star - Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As reality seeps in, the Queen boys enlist John Reid to help them find their beloved Freddie.  
Freddie however uncomfortable, is unaware that he is in danger - for now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry lovies, but I’m finding this bit a little harder to write so I’m a bit slower to update - please don’t give up on me!

“Jamie? Fucking Jamie?” growled Roger. “Freddie hates Jamie! He gives him the creeps. I told Freddie to talk to you about him ages ago, but he thought you’d go mental!”

“Go mental? What do you mean? I’ve just accused Freddie of fucking Jamie!” yelled Jim.

“When would he have time to do that Jim?….not to mention inclination! Does Jamie look like Freddie’s type to you??” Roger growled. “Jamie is stalking Freddie you dumb shit! Every concert, every venue, there’s Jamie.”

“Look….” Jim held Jamie’s note up to Roger’s face “…read the note…. Freddie’s having a….fling….with Jamie.” Jim struggled to even speak the words.

“Because some fucking love letter written by fucking pipe dream says so?!” Roger spat with sarcasm. “If Freddie’s not with us, he’s with you. I know he’s the Queen of quickies, but that’s ridiculous even for Fred! Where is this coming from Jim? Yesterday you two made me want to barf you were so fucking cute!”

“What about Joe?” accused Jim.

“What’s Joe got to do with anything? Hang on….who exactly are you accusing Freddie of fucking - Jamie or Joe? Or maybe he did them both together….you know ….spit roast!” Roger roared.

He was furious!

How could Jim have so little faith in his reformed best friend. Roger had never seen Freddie try so hard for anyone.

With a growl Jim pushed Roger up on the wall, his fist poised to connect.

“Oy!” yelled Brian.

Jim didn’t realise Brian could shout so loud.

“For all we know Freddie is with this freak right now! He might be being held hostage, and you two – the people who claim to care about him most in the world - are wasting precious time.”

Jim and Roger both turned to Brian and nodded.

Jim looked down at his own hand on Roger’s chest. He didn’t know who he was becoming.

“I’m so sorry Roger” he said sadly. “I care….you know.”

Roger nodded.

“Better” sniped Brian. “Right, Jim as you noticed our note has the same writing style as yours. Jamie’s been stupid enough to sign this ….note to Freddie. His intentions are obviously darker than a fling – as you put it – but he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and…”

“But…” Roger interrupted when he saw the distress on Jim’s face “…we don’t know that Freddie is with Jamie. He might have just got pissed and gone out. He might roll through that door at any minute.”

Brian looked furious at having been interrupted. “Let’s examine the facts we DO have Rog.”

“We need to call the police” said Jim softly.

“Don’t over react” said Brian, a hand raised. “We’ll look like idiots if Freddie turns up wasted. This is not London, we don’t know how the police will treat this if it turns out to be nothing….but we do need to get John up here now!”

All three man jumped when there was a knock on the door.

Roger’s face lit up as he raced to answer it, and fell again when it was Deaky on the other side.

“Hey, everyone was missing, what’s going on?” he asked, oblivious to the drama.

“Come in Deaky. Poor choice of words mate, Freddie is missing – presumably kidnapped” uttered Brian quietly.

“Kidnapped!” whispered Deaky, whistling through his teeth. “What the hell for? He’s got no money!”

“Do you remember Jamie from the other night?” asked Brian.

Deaky nodded “Quiet chap – loves art.”

“Well, maybe not so quiet. Freddie is missing, and Jamie’s left a note….”

“A ransom note?” interrupted Deaky, eyebrows raised.

Brian shook his head, looking at Roger and Jim. “We didn’t think about that – there are no demands, no requests, no exchange offered….just this bizarre section here …'I care for him more than any of you ever will'…” Brian read from the note.

“That’s promising” said Deaky nodding, as he walked over to Jim, and enveloped him in an enormous hug. “Maybe he’s a crazed fan. God knows Freddie attracts all sorts…but if Jamie claims to cares for him, hopefully he won’t hurt him. Why do rock stars even get kidnapped?!” asked Deaky rhetorically.

“Will you all just fucking shut up!” wailed Jim.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Jim rested his head back onto the wall, one hand in his hair. “I can’t fucking think. I don’t want to fucking think. Oh God!” he growled dropping his head into both hands.

***********************

Freddie stopped walking, and looked around bewildered when they came to another crossroads.

They had been walking for about fifteen minutes, and he no longer knew where he was.

Freddie had never needed to take note of his route since he had arrived in New York City.

It was funny, although he hadn’t been with Jim for very long, he couldn’t remember what he had done before Jim did all the navigational stuff.

He looked up at the signpost at the intersection.

The street numbers meant nothing to him.

Freddie pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his light jacket. He was starting to feel cold, and unpleasantly sober.

“Jamie” he called softly to the man a few steps ahead. “What are we doing here?”

Jamie stopped walking, and turned back to Freddie, linking an arm through his. “Come on man, we’re nearly there.”

Freddie refused to take another step. His senses suddenly alert for reasons he could not fathom.

“Tell me where we’re going please?” Freddie said more firmly than he felt.

Now that he was more sober, he was very much regretting his decision to leave the hotel room.

It suddenly felt like a trick.

Jim may not love him anymore, but he wouldn’t do this to him.

Jim always encouraged Freddie to stay close.

If Jim wanted to see him, he would’ve come to the hotel.

Jim didn’t trust anyone else where Freddie was concerned. He was overly cautious in his role. It was what he was paid to do, and Jim wouldn’t give up on duty.

Jamie laughed softly “House party, come on you stress head. Does the big shot rock star not go anywhere without the limousine and entourage?!”

“Jamie. I want to go home please” Freddie stated politely, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice.

“What are you talking about?” Jamie laughed. “You know you don’t really, this party will rock! The press will be here, it will be great for the band, and arriving with you will be great for my image too!” Jamie chuckled.

Suddenly Freddie noticed a glint in Jamie’s eye.

Something he hadn’t seen before, but something he had intuited.

Jamie pointed up at the roof of an apartment block up ahead.

A party was in full swing.

A couple could be seen leaning on the railings, a drink in hand, they looked fantastic. As though an advert was being film – perhaps for a sexy alcoholic drink, or a famous jeweler.

Freddie did not feel placated.

He couldn’t walk into a room full of strangers by himself.

“Who’s at the party Jamie?” asked Freddie, warning creeping into his voice.

“All your mates” said Jamie as though Freddie was slow.

“What are their names? Who is there?” Freddie asked, troubled that Jim would send someone to collect him who didn’t even know the name of the man who had sent him.

“You know…..your boyfriend – and ….the band ….the band are there” Jamie started to stutter.

“I asked what are their names?” demanded Freddie.

“God, I don’t know! I’ve only known you a couple of days. I can’t know everything” Jamie sniggered, but his eyes were humourless.

“You were in Philadelphia with us too, and I saw you at Denver and Boston before that….I remember you. You’re everywhere” Freddie softened his voice, when Jamie turned to him, an edge of danger in his eye.

“That’s so flattering that you would remember me – thank you so much! The big shot rock star remembering little old me” he chimed.

Freddie’s razor sharp wit quickly locked onto Jamie’s desire for flattery.

He smiled broadly.

“Of course I remember you, you silly old tart!” he blustered, squeezing Jamie’s arm, “…but listen, I’ve had a wonderful time just getting to know you a little better, but I’m very tired, and I’m unwell. We have a big show tomorrow night, and I really would like to go home and rest.”

Jamie blushed “So sweet of you to say so, but we’re here now Freddie. If you get up there, and still want to go home, I promise I will walk you back. Come on.”

Freddie stopped walking, and said with a timid voice. “Jim will take me home, where is he?”

“Come on Freddie!” insisted Jamie, impatiently grabbing Freddie’s arm and dragging him towards the door of the building.

The door creaked loudly as Jamie pulled it open.

The building looked as though it hadn’t been cared for in a very long time.

Freddie’s eyes quickly scanned the entrance looking for a building name, a number, anything that would give away where he was.

There was no doorman he could greet.

Someone he could let know he was there.

There was no one he could ask for help.

Jamie held open the door, and turned to see what was holding Freddie up.

“Come on Freddie. Just a few flights of stairs now. I’ll introduce you to some friends of mine, so you won’t feel scared” he said, ushering Freddie inside.

********************

“Oh, he does this” stated John Reid matter of fact.

“He gets weird ideas about people, and they get all muddled up in that head of his. Believe me – Freddie’s last flight of fancy cost me a fortune.” John rolled his eyes with amusement.

He picked up an empty alcohol bottle from the bed, then another. “He’ll be in some state.” John laughed. “Have you any idea where he might have gone? Who does he know in the area?”

“Nobody…” said Brian. “…but John, Freddie hasn’t simply wandered off, he’s been….”

“Mott?…..Joe? Might be Joe?” John brightened, answering his own question while ignoring Brian’s point.

“Freddie’s not with Mott” said Deaky with confidence. “I’ve just seen them in the bar.”

“You….” John said pointing at Deaky “…ring reception and ask to be put through to Joe in the kitchen. If he’s working, we can rule him out.”

Deaky nodded, and reached for the phone.

John looked at Jim gravely and shook his head. “You’re a pillock Hutton!”

Jim hung his head.

He didn’t have an argument.

He was a pillock.

He was cold, and heartless, and careless, and every other insult in between.

Deaky hung up the phone, and shook his head. “Joe picked up the kitchen phone. He’s working, and hasn’t seen Freddie since yesterday.”

“John, I think you’re missing the point…” Brian started again. “…Freddie hasn’t simply gone out, he’s been kidnapped.”

“KIDNAPPED!!!” yelled John. “Why didn’t any of you say so? What do you mean kidnapped? Who by?”

*****************

“How many more stairs Jamie?” Freddie whispered weakly.

His chest was beginning to hurt from coughing, and he was losing his voice again.

The apartment block was dark, and dingy, and not very cheery.

Freddie was beginning to feel decidedly unsafe.

He never went out alone.

Not since he had been with Jim, and before that he would be with another of his lovers, or the band.

Jim didn’t let Freddie go out on his own.

It had never occurred to Freddie to mind.

That it was unusual in any way.

Freddie liked company – especially Jim’s.

He liked the way Jim brushed up against him when they walked together in public – even if they couldn’t hold hands. He just needed to touch.

Jamie stopped outside a door at the top of what felt like the hundredth flight of stairs.

He turned to Freddie with a smile, and fished in his pocket for the key.

Freddie finally reached the top of the stairs, and found himself looking at a warped apartment door.

He had the strongest sense of foreboding.

He did not want to go inside.

“Jamie….” Freddie said nervously “what are we doing here?”

“I just need to change my shoes.” Jamie said breezily. “ I won’t be long I promise. I don’t wanna wear these scruffy old sneakers to my first rock star party” he said with a casual laugh.

The lock finally gave in, allowing Jamie to remove his key and push open the door.

“After you” he said ushering Freddie ahead.

Freddie shuffled forward.

The room was in darkness.

Freddie couldn’t see where he was going.

“Sorry Freddie” said a dismembered voice. “The light switch is behind the door, we need to go into the room before I can put on the light.”

Freddie reached out his hands into blackness. He touched nothing.

He took as deep a breath as his cough would allow, and stepped forward, hoping the light would be switched on in an instant, and he would find himself in a warm friendly home.

Suddenly Freddie felt a hand in the small of his back.

He lurched forward as he was pushed violently onto the cold linoleum floor. His hands flying out to catch his fall painfully on his wrists.

“Get in there” snapped an angry voice.

“What the fuck are you doing?” wailed Freddie, confused. “That really hurt” he cried, rolling onto his bottom as the door slammed, and the light flickered to life.

Freddie squinted up into the cold white light of a bare bulb.

The friendly smile, now a cold leer.

“Welcome home Freddie.”


	25. Encounters: Shooting Star - Trapped!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Reid leads the boys in a fact finding mission in the hope to learn more about the man who has taken Freddie.  
Freddie struggles to come to terms with being a prisoner, and his confusion around his broken relationship with Jim.   
But just what does Jamie want – really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies, there is no violence in this chapter, but Freddie is a prisoner, so please read with care.

John Reid wound his fingers around the cold metal of the silver bangle he had picked up from the bedside cabinet.

He remembered the day he had given it to Freddie.

Freddie had been thrilled; so excited to receive such a gift. His little cheeks flushed with pleasure.

John wondered where Freddie was right now.

He was concerned.

Everyone that Freddie knew had been accounted for, and he wasn’t good with strangers.

John remembered taking Freddie to the ballet.

He had been so shy in the car on the way – alternating between talking too much, and not being able to talk at all.

John’s mind wandered back to the dinner they had all enjoyed together a handful of night’s ago.

Freddie hadn’t spoken to Jamie then.

Jamie was the feared stranger.

He was an unknown entity to all of them.

If Jamie hurt Freddie, John would not be responsible for his actions.

***********************

“What do we know about this Jamie character?” John barked at the small group of men.

“We know that Freddie could take him in a fit!” said Roger sarcastically.

“We don’t know anything about him Roger” said Jim. “We’re not in the position to be cocky. I watched Freddie see off three men not so long ago. Nobody would look at him and see a boxing champion. We can’t assume anything.”

Jim picked up an empty vodka bottle. “Freddie is also at a disadvantage” he spat, throwing the bottle at the wall, and watching it ricochet with a dull thud, not achieving the satisfying smash he was hoping for.

“That doesn’t answer my question!” shouted John. “What DO we know about him?”

“He’s a creep” said Roger. “He’s turned up at every concert across America.”

“So, he’s got no responsibilities, and no ties, but he has the money to travel” stated John, clicking his fingers at Brian to pass him a notebook.

Deaky raised a hand as though asking permission to speak. “He doesn’t have a job– I asked him.”

“Right – that fits what I said a minute ago – no ties. What else did he say?” asked John, cataloging the facts.

Deaky clicked his fingers. “Jamie is an artist…he draws….he hoped Freddie would help him someday.”

“Good. So he thinks he has something in common with Freddie – a rapport.”

The small group of men fell silent for a moment.

“Come on!” yelled John “What else do we know? How did you meet Jamie?”

“We met him in Philadelphia on the final night after the gig” said Roger. “He was at your party. He was in the jelly pool.”

“He wasn’t in the jelly pool” Jim piped up “He was standing beside it. I had clocked him earlier in the evening, then he approached me and told me that Freddie was having some trouble with that older man…” Jim turned to Roger “…do you remember Rog? You punched him?”

“He had it coming!” growled Roger.

“So, Jamie came to you and said what…that Freddie what?” asked John tapping his pencil impatiently on the notepad.

“He said that Freddie was in trouble” said Jim.

“Right, so he referred to Freddie by name? He came to you personally, so he knew you were with Freddie, and he’d been watching him to know he was in trouble. Fuck! This creep has been watching Freddie for a while” John said dramatically.

Jim wiped a trembling hand over his face.

He had never been so ashamed.

How different the situation looked now.

How certain he had been of Freddie’s guilt.

How convinced he had been of his own inadequacy.

So convinced it had become a self-fulfilling prophecy. He had not only failed to protect the love of his life, but he had directly hurt him while failing. Striking at his most tender spots, in a bid to ease his own pain.

Jim had preached at Freddie. Implored with him. Declaring that his love was true. That he loved Freddie so wholly and so deeply that he would never let him down.

Lies.

All of it.

"What is he doing in New York? Where is he staying?" asked John.

"Stalking Freddie!" growled Roger, becoming more impatient.

“What’s with all this pink paper anyway?” snapped John, himself writing on the pink notebook.

“It’s Freddie’s” whispered Jim. “Smell it.”

“Whatever for?!” snapped John.

“Just smell it” repeated Roger.

John suspiciously brought the notepad up to his nose, as though he expected something unpleasant to shoot out of the centre of it - like ink from the clown’s flower of his childhood. He wrinkled his nose. “Mmmmm, that’s nice.”

“It’s perfume” said Jim glumly, his heart even heavier when he remembered the delighted smile that had broken across Freddie’s face when he first realised the paper was fragranced.

“Write you love letters on this does he?” asked John with amusement.

Jim blushed to the roots of his hair.

“Sometimes” he mumbled. “Sometimes he leaves me a note to pick up the drying cleaning.”

“How did Jamie get hold of it?”

It was a good question.

The note book had been in their room all along.

“Jim” John’s voice was so tender that Jim looked up in surprise. “We’ll get him mate” he said, tapping Jim’s shoulder.

**********************

Freddie jumped to his feet as though he had been bitten.

He had heard what Jamie said, but chose to ignore it - too fearful of the realisation that he was a prisoner.

That he had walked willingly – albeit it timidly - into the net.

That the man who had made his blood run cold from the moment they met was in fact what Freddie had perceived him to be all along– a threat to his very existence.

He had seen the look in Jamie’s eye. It was that of a crocodile looming over his prey in the trap.

A singing canary.

The cat had got its cream.

Freddie glanced around him, automatically reaching out behind him as though to take Jim’s hand.

Jim was not there.

The apartment was small and cold.

There was brightly patterned wallpaper - yellow with damp - hanging from one wall.

A wrought iron bed stood in one corner, a small square table with four chairs around it scarcely large enough to seat four for coffee, never mind a family meal.

“Don’t be scared” said Jamie softly.

“I’m not scared!” snapped Freddie. Hips square, feet wide, chin raised.

Anyone who knew him would have recognised the stance.

Freddie was pretending to be strong.

“Is this where you live?” Freddie asked inquisitively, hoping for clues into the man, so he could begin to plan his escape.

“For a day or two” Jamie smiled warmly. “I’ve got Indian food – don’t worry, I thought of everything.”

Freddie allowed his eyes to flash quickly towards the only window - a slim horizontal portal above the kitchen area of the tiny studio flat.

“Please may I use your bathroom?” he asked politely.

Jamie gestured towards the door with a smile. “Be my guest.”

Freddie hurried towards the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him.

There was no lock on the door.

There was no window in the room.

There was no furniture to wedge under the door handle.

There was no means of escape at all.

Freddie slumped down onto the toilet lid and dropped his head into his hands.

His heart thumped painfully in his chest.

He spread his fingers allowing himself to peep through, to take in every detail of the room, without allowing the full enormity of his situation to filter through to his brain.

Looking for something – a clue – a course of action – a means of escape.

There was not a flicker of hope.

Freddie was a prisoner.

He suddenly became aware of his genuine need to use the toilet.

He looked around him.

The plumbing was old and rusting.

There were large gaps in the skirting that were covered in age old spiders webs, and an old toilet brush that he could smell from where he was sitting.

There was a roll of Izal on the floor by his feet, and a cracked slither of soap on the sink. The tap must have dripped for years, as there was a permanent stain in the basin.

Tears of humiliation welled in Freddie’s eyes when he realised he was going to have to use the facilities.

“You’re gonna stay here with me for a little while” Jamie called through the door. “Just until my boss gets what he needs from your manager. Then we’ll leave, you and I together, we can start a new life.”

“I….like my old life” stuttered Freddie, realising that he actually did. That for the first time in his life he was beginning to feel happy, contented, safe.

Then Joe had written that letter to Jim.

Freddie hadn’t read the contents – just the top line. No doubt it was a kiss and tell. Exposing all.

Freddie had wildly misjudged Joe. It was not as though they were going to build a relationship. Freddie would be in London by the weekend, and Joe would still be here.

It helped to blame Joe.

To divert the pain caused by the passionate kiss they had shared away from himself.

To re-direct Jim’s anger, and Freddie’s consequential feelings of being abandoned.

Freddie pulled open the bathroom door, just wide enough to squeeze through. He closed it quietly behind him.

“Where is Jim?” Freddie asked meekly. “I thought he had asked you to get me” he said confused.

Jamie laughed loudly. “That was just my ruse to get you all to myself. You’re such a nice person Freddie. You just trotted along behind me. I can’t believe you trusted me straight away.”

Tears of frustration burned in Freddie’s eyes, but he refused to allow them to fall.

“I don’t trust you Jamie!” he spat angrily, ashamed of his naivety. “I was drunk, and clearly I’ve been misinformed. Take me to Jim right now!” he yelled.

“Ooh Jim’s having his own party ” Jamie sing-songed. “I. just. told. you. When my boss has what he needs, he will let them go – your precious Jim, your friends in the band. Not you though – you’re lovely. I’m keeping you.”

Freddie gasped. “You have Jim, and my friends? Where are they? W-what do you want us for? W-we don’t have any money” Freddie’s quivering voice was beginning to betray him, beginning to reveal the growing fear inside of him, as the faces of each of the men he loved flashed before him. “Jamie, tell your boss not to hurt them, what is it you want? I’ll do whatever you want!” he pleaded.

Jamie’s expression softened in response to Freddie’s distress, and suddenly it was like he was the timid boy that Freddie had met in Philadelphia.

“Good. I just want you…to be my friend” Jamie said shyly. “Hey….” his eyes suddenly brightened manically “…do you want to do some drawing with me?”

*************************

Jamie picked up a sketch pad and some crayons from the table, and dropped them loudly onto the floor making Freddie jump.

Jamie dropped onto his knees on the carpet beside Freddie like a small child.

“It will be fun. Come on. Do you like drawing? Your friend from the band said you do, and that you would draw with me.” Jamie grasped Freddie’s hand, urgently pulling him down to sit on the carpet too.

Despite his predicament, Freddie nodded.

He never had been very good at saying no, and he loved to sketch.

He could lose himself for hours when he sketched.

Maybe his circumstances would be different when he had finished.

Maybe captivity would change Jim’s mind.

Maybe Roger would break free and come for him.

Freddie’s treacherous mind painfully recalled the last time he had held a pencil.

Just two days ago when things had been wonderful.

He had awoken in the night, his heart beating hard in his chest, his breath coming short when he realised he had been on the cusp of a nightmare.

Freddie had been so nervous when he realised that he had woken Jim with the lamp light, and the scratching of his pencil – woken Jim again!

He had expected Jim to be angry. For him to have shouted some jibe about Freddie being so difficult and a pain in the arse.

He had expected Jim to snatch the pencil from his hand, and switch out the lamp light, leaving Freddie alone in the dark when he went back to sleep, to lie awake until morning desperate not to be re-claimed by the nightmares.

One look at Jim’s face told Freddie a different story.

Jim had been pleased to see him.

Pleased he’d been woken - and interested in what Freddie had been drawing. So interested that he had held Freddie close, and asked him about it – as though his well being mattered.

None of Freddie’s partners had ever asked about his love of art before.

Freddie felt a wave of agony wash over him.

He longed for Jim.

It physically hurt not to be able to reach out and touch him.

Not to feel his reassuring hand on his shoulder, or looped around his waist.

Not to be able to put out a finger and feel Jim clasp it in his warm hand.

Suddenly Freddie realised how long it had been since he had felt alone. Something that had haunted him all his life until now.

He looked at Jamie’s hopeful face looking up at him, desperate for Freddie to accept his offer of friendship.

Did Jamie feel alone?

Freddie knelt beside him and ran a finger through the selection of crayons, looking for the perfect shade of yellow.

“What would you like to draw?” Freddie asked softly.

Perhaps he could befriend Jamie.

Perhaps if Jamie liked him, he would let Freddie go, so he could help the others.

Freddie froze when he felt Jamie twirl a lock of his hair carefully around his finger. His fixated eyes watching as the light reflected in the gloss.

“You have such pretty hair” Jamie stated. “When I was a boy, before Mum died, I had a doll with hair like yours. The doll was Japanese, but her hair was as black and as shiny as yours. Never cut it. It’s what I noticed first about you” mused Jamie, almost to himself.

Freddie froze for a moment, and then slapped Jamie’s hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” he snapped. “I don’t want you to touch me. I only want my Jim…..” Freddie’s voice tapered to silence.

Jim would never touch him again.

Jamie laughed loudly in the quiet, making Freddie jump. “Jim’s left you!” 

Jamie rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I can’t believe how easy it was to get between you two. He was so angry when he read my letter! I saw him leave your room. Good riddance. He was no good for you, he didn’t look after you properly, not like I can.” Jamie boasted cockily.

“Jim said he was going to beat you for flirting with the chef the other night” continued Jamie, with a lowered voice, as though confiding a secret. “He told me so. It’s the truth!”

“Jim doesn’t beat me!” cried Freddie indignantly, fading when the memory of Jim’s angry face slid into his mind’s eye.

Suddenly Jamie’s words hit home.

“Your letter?” said Freddie quietly. “You wrote that letter to Jim? But….we didn’t do anything? We…were never together? Why did you write a letter to Jim telling him that we were?” Freddie shook his head violently, and leapt to his feet, followed quickly by Jamie.

“Jim was so upset!” Freddie launched himself at Jamie, pushing him violently away.

“O-only to get you out of there” stammered Jamie. “I-I needed to get you to come with me….to get to know me. I’m n-nice really. Honest! I knew that once you saw that…..that …that you would want to stay.”

“Why?” Freddie shrieked in Jamie’s face. “Did I ever give you any idea that I wanted this?” Freddie screamed flinging his arms in the air, then pinning Jamie to the wall with a hand on each shoulder.

“How could you hurt Jim like that? He’s the loveliest man on earth!” Freddie yelled into Jamie’s face.

Jamie hit out, clawing at Freddie’s face like a cornered cat, stopping abruptly the moment he drew blood.

“I’m sorry….I’m so sorry” Jamie whimpered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you Freddie. I don’t want to hurt you…. honestly I just want to be your friend.”

Freddie dabbed at his lip with his hand, checking for blood. Loathing written across his face.

He backed away from Jamie slowly, but didn’t take his furious gaze from Jamie’s face.

“Jamie….where is Jim?” asked Freddie much more calmly than he felt. “He hasn’t really been kidnapped has he?”

“No! I made that up” Jamie laughed. “He’s gone. He doesn’t want you anymore. You have to stay with me now” Jamie said assertively.

In his head, Freddie counted to three.

In a flash he ran for the door, pumping the handle in his panic, hoping…praying that Jamie had forgotten to lock it. 

The door remained stubbornly in its place, as Freddie began to pummel it with his fists crying for help.

It was pointless.

The party upstairs made him impossible to hear.

“Freddie” said a cool voice. Nothing like Jamie’s usual voice at all.

Freddie slowly turned to Jamie, petrified of what might happen next.

Jamie had the phone to his ear, and a telephone directory in his hand.

“You stop that right now or I will call the New York Mirror and tell them you are gay. Everybody. Will. Know……EVERYBODY! All your music friends. The promoters. Your beloved parents. Even your priest!” Jamie spat with contempt.

Freddie cried out in anguish, sliding down the door, slumping to the ground.

It was hopeless.

No one could hear him.

No one would help him.

Jim didn’t care if he lived or died.

Who would be waiting for him?

Freddie wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to calm the violent shivers that were taking over his body.

He had to be brave.

He had once got away from bullies– he could do it again.

Freddie crawled on his hands and knees to the sketch pad on the floor. He picked up a black crayon, and focused intently on the page, forcing his trembling hand to still.

His hand began sketching as though it didn’t belong to him.

A tear dropped onto his drawing, but went undashed.

Neither of the men spoke, until Freddie put down the crayon.

He stood slowly and held the paper up to Jamie, and said gently “See, this is my cat. Jim was going to get me a cat for my birthday.”

He felt his face crumple before he heard himself cry.

“I want to go home” he sobbed. “I need to be with my family.”

Jamie felt his heart break in two.

He couldn’t bear to see Freddie cry, but he had to be strong.

He had to see this through.

Freddie would see eventually – how much he loved him.

Jamie had rid Freddie of the minder, his only choice now was Jamie, and who would reject the love he had to give him.

Jamie wrapped a soothing arm around Freddie’s shoulder and encouraged him to kneel beside him.

“Don’t cry Freddie...please! I will look after you, I promise. You don’t need to be alone anymore, you’ll see, you don’t even have to sing if you don’t want to. I know you are sad now, but I will take good care of you. Make you look real pretty.”


	26. Encounters: Shooting Star - The Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen boys anxiously wait for news of Freddie as John Reid disappears to make some enquiries of his own.  
Freddie begins to feel that his situation is hopeless, while Jamie declares his love...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it is taking me soooo long to write this lovies! It hurts to write unhappy Freddie ☹

“No!” shrieked Jim, as Deaky attempted to draw the curtains. “Don’t shut him out! Please!”

The skyline had turned from cerulean to violet to indigo, and finally to navy as Jim stared out of the window, silently begging for a glimpse of Freddie.

A well Freddie.

An unharmed Freddie.

Not one of the men were handling Freddie’s absence well, understandably worse was Jim.

He was alternating between starring out into the street, holding his head in his hands, and pacing the floor.

Roger tapped Jim on the shoulder and pulled him in for a hug.

The two men rocked each other, consoling one another against their inner most thoughts.

Brian and Deaky simply stared – fear etched on their faces.

“Oh God, this is his worst fucking nightmare!” wailed Jim, the lateness of the hour causing him to drop his head into his hands once more. “Where are you Freddie?? I’m sorry…I’m so sorry!”

“Do you know?” Roger whispered.

“Know what?” asked Jim eagerly, desperate for any information.

“About the nightmares?” said Roger.

“Yes, of course I know about the nightmares. I share a bed with Freddie every night” Jim snapped.

“Do you know the reason though?” asked Roger

“Do you?” Jim retorted.

Roger shook his head “No, he would never tell me. I figured it was just another Freddie thing.”

Jim remained quiet.

“Well come on?” barked Roger.

“No!” snapped Jim. “I don’t know….and I wouldn’t tell you if I did, and that’s the end of this discussion.” Jim eyed Brian and Deaky nervously, hoping they had not overheard.

“Freddie has been my friend for years! I’ve a right to know!” murmured Roger between gritted teeth.

Jim took a breath before the situation got heated again, and answered Roger calmly.

“No, you don’t Roger, and neither do I. That is Freddie’s business, and Freddie’s alone. We can only support him” stressed Jim. “If he wants to talk to us, either of us – or both of us – then we can be there for him.”

Jim looked at his watch eager to change the subject. “Come on lads, it’s time. We need to call the police.”

*******************

Freddie sneezed.

He sat with his back to the cold door. His knees pulled up to his chest. His keen ear listening intently for anyone who may pass by in the hallway.

His quick eyes touching briefly upon every surface in the room; the table, the worktops, the picture rail, hoping to spot the key for the door.

Freddie was relieved that there was so little in the room. He couldn’t be sure, but he hoped that meant no hidden weapons.

He couldn’t account for the kitchen area.

Freddie stared at Jamie’s back.

Jamie was busy making a pot of tea.

Freddie perused his slight frame through narrowed eyes.

What had happened to the key when they had entered the room?

Had Jamie sneaked it into his pocket?

Could Freddie pluck the key out during the confusion if he threw the first punch?

He had to be smart.

He didn’t want to hurt Jamie, but he would if he had a clear escape plan.

Silently, Freddie rolled onto his knees, peering down the barrel of the keyhole hoping to spot a weakness in the mechanism.

Freddie jumped, and rolled back onto his bottom when a mug of tea was slammed down on the hard floor.

Jamie crouched beside him, and Freddie rolled himself small.

“Freddie, why are you sitting here?” asked Jamie with a soft smile. “You’ll get cold. I’m going to make some food now – you must be starving. I’ve got Indian for you – your favourite – especially when served up by hot blonds with muscles hey?” Jamie laughed softly, rolling up the sleeve of his own t-shirt. “Not like me. I’ve always been a weakling.”

Freddie didn’t crack a smile.

He glowered at Jamie.

Soft dark eyes turning razor sharp with contempt for his capturer.

Jamie picked up the mug and held it out nervously to Freddie, like a man expecting to have his hand bitten off at any moment.

“Come on, have your tea while it’s hot” he said more confidently.

Freddie peered into the chipped mug.

It did look nice, and he was freezing.

Freddie timidly held out his hands for the mug, before snapping them back quickly.

“What is in it?” he asked cautiously, on guard, eyes meeting Jamie’s for the first time.

“There’s milk and two sugars – is that right?” Jamie asked, missing Freddie’s concern that he may be attempting to drug him.

Freddie nodded sharply before taking the mug and wrapping both hands around it.

The mug was too hot to hold, but Freddie was too cold to put it down.

********************

“John told us to leave it with him” said Brian. “He doesn’t want to draw undue attention to us.”

“That was hours ago Bri!” wailed Jim. “Please. I can’t just do nothing. It’s dark out. What if he’s lost, or hurt.”

“Jim’s got a point” mumbled Deaky, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “It has been ages.”

“What if he gave Jamie the slip, and is wandering around lost? Freddie doesn’t know New York. He doesn’t know anyone here” continued Jim.

“He might be pissed, and staying out as long as possible to make you pay” said Brian.

Jim shook his head firmly. “Freddie wouldn’t do that.”

Brian chuckled sarcastically. “Then you don’t know Freddie.”

“I’m beginning to think you don’t know Freddie either!” snapped Jim, before turning suddenly and heading towards the telephone. “Why am I even asking you” he mumbled rhetorically, “I’m calling the police!”

“Just a minute Jim” said Brian, as Jim lifted the receiver. “Let me think.”

“What’s to think about – it’s been fucking ages Brian!” roared Roger. “Whatever Reid’s doing, he’s not updating us is he?!”

“Look – there are four of us” said Deaky calmly. “Jim, before you call the police why don’t you and I go and look for Freddie? We can retrace our routes to the few places he does know, how about make our way to the clubs?”

Jim shook his head. “I’m not leaving this hotel. I need to be here for Freddie.”

“I’ll go” volunteered Roger. “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since I chucked up, I’m starting to feel faint. We’ll look for Freddie, get food, and hopefully bring both back with us.”

“I couldn’t eat a thing” mumbled Jim, suddenly understanding the effect of nervous energy on Freddie’s appetite.

*******************

“Your meal has gone cold Freddie” said Jamie, stooping to pick up the full plate of food that he had placed on the floor beside Freddie, after he had refused to eat at the table. “I’ll put it back in the oven for you for later.”

Freddie pouted. “I don’t want it. I want to go home!”

Jamie turned slowly, his eyes darkening with anger.

Suddenly, and without warning Jamie threw the plate violently onto the hard linoleum floor. It shattered, splattering remnants of food up the walls.

Freddie yelped, before rocking on his bottom with both arms wrapped around his knees in an attempt to comfort himself.

With a cry, Jamie began slapping his own head with the palm of his head. “Bad, bad” he repeated, before turning to a terrified Freddie.

“I will not let you make me treat you badly. I will not let you turn me into my Father” said Jamie sternly, before approaching Freddie and sitting calmly beside him.

“I want to go home” cried Freddie.

“Why are you scared of me?” Jamie asked quietly, reaching out a hand and stroking a finger down Freddie’s cheekbone. “No one is ever scared of me. No one even notices me. Why Freddie? You’re not a prisoner, you’re my guest of honour. I’ve bought you nice food, and things for you to do – see?” he said, tentatively holding the sketch pad out to Freddie. When Freddie didn’t take the pad, he placed it beside him and added a handful of crayons. “We could write music together if you like? Do you write all the songs for your band?” he asked gently.

Freddie shook his head. “Brian and I write most of them….” he said, hoping to keep Jamie calm. “…Deaky and Roger write a few, they’re getting better.”

“You can write a song here if you like. I would love to hear it. I’m going to take care of you Freddie. I’m a good person. I love you.”

Freddie swallowed hard, gathering all of his courage.

“Show me how nice a person you are Jamie – take me home – please” he begged. “We can be friends, but not like this.”

Freddie counted in his head, not taking his eyes from Jamie’s hands, poised to run the moment he moved.

Jamie was quiet for a while, before he spoke. “Have you ever been so hungry that you can’t sleep for the pain in your tummy?”

Freddie nodded.

Remembering times so long ago.

Times he missed his mother so badly that he couldn’t eat for the gnawing in his stomach.

Times he didn’t recognise any of the food he was presented with.

Times his food had been stolen by the bigger boys.

“What’s your home like in London?” continued Jamie, bringing Freddie’s attention back into the room. “Is it a palace?”

At any other time Freddie would have giggled at the notion.

“My home is nice, but it’s small. The sunshine floods into the living room. I like to have flowers always, and my piano stool is my favourite place to sit” he said quietly, the images rolling like an old movie through his head.

Freddie hadn’t thought of London at all since he had been away, but suddenly he longed to be there.

Having beers with the boys.

Watching Top of the Pops, or playing truth or dare.

Curling up with Jim on the sofa when the boys had gone to bed.

“I was going to tell Jim that I wanted to live with him when we got back. I was going to surprise him…..” Freddie quickly dashed a tear before it could roll down his cheek.

Suddenly Freddie shook the hair out of his face, as though changing the channel.

“Do you live here?” he asked, distracting himself from the impending pain that Jim would no longer want him.

Jamie shook his head. “This isn’t my place. It belongs to a man I was in prison with. Have you ever been to prison?”

To his own surprise, Freddie nodded.

Jamie chuckled “You don’t seem the type to go to prison. Where?”

“India” responded Freddie quickly. “I was at boarding school.”

Jamie laughed out loud. “What…like camp?”

“I couldn’t get out” said Freddie sarcastically, angered at Jamie for ridiculing him. “That’s prison.”

Jamie’s tone softened, and turned to inquisitiveness “Was any of it nice?”

Freddie nodded. “It was beautiful. The landscape was nice. The weather more temperate. There were flowers everywhere. I studied music and literature, and drama, and art. I got to compete in a lot of sports – which I was very good at” he boasted. “On Saturday afternoons I got to see the ballet, or watch a play, or a show.”

“My prison wasn’t like that” Jamie said sadly. “Did you see your family?”

Freddie shook his head.

“Those places cost a bomb. Why did they send you away?” Jamie asked.

Freddie shrugged. “I dunno, but I hope to make it up to them some day.”

Jamie jumped to his feet, and held his hand out to Freddie.

“Come on. Let me get you something to eat, then we can go to bed. I won’t let you go to bed hungry Freddie, and in the morning, you will realise that you do love me, then we can go, ok? Start the rest of our lives together.”

Freddie stiffened with fear.

Eyes locked ahead, refusing to take the offer hand.

He couldn’t be sure he would be alive in the morning.


	27. Encounters: Shooting Star - Consciousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen boys take matters into their own hands when it appears that no one is doing enough to help them bring Freddie home safe and well.  
Freddie reaches his darkest hour when he realises he may have to succumb to Jamie’s wishes – until he hears a voice, but is it too late?  
Jamie reveals a little about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just adore Freddie’s little doodles and emerging song lyrics. Poor baby though ☹

Freddie scribbled on the sketch pad, casting surreptitious glances at Jamie.

Making sure he didn’t move an inch.

Freddie stopped to think for a moment, digging his nail deep into the heel of his platform shoe in anger.

His eyes swollen and red with fever.

Periodically wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand.

He had stopped shivering hours ago. Now he was bone cold, and everything ached.

A vision of Jim’s face swam before him.

Peering into his eyes, the back of his hand cool against his forehead, asking if he was well enough.

Insisting he take a jacket.

Freddie pulled the tiny jacket closer around him, suddenly remembering he had a handkerchief in the pocket.

He took it out and wiped it over his face feeling marginally better for the small action.

No one had ever cared before.

No one had ever made sure Freddie had everything he needed.

It had been down to him since he was eight years old.

His uniform had to be spotless.

His towels laundered.

His sports kit ready on the correct day.

Freddie became aware of a pair of dark dangerous eyes boring into his skull. Jamie was lounging on the bed appearing to do nothing.

The terrifying eyes never left Freddie’s face.

Freddie couldn’t meet those eyes for fear of what they would tell him.

That this would be his life now.

That he would die here.

That he would never be found.

That happened sometimes.

Such reports were on the news.

People vanished, they never returned.

Freddie focused his attention back onto the page, and he noticed words as well as graphics.

He had written ‘I don’t want to die’ in his loopy floral handwriting.

Freddie read his own handwriting, and his mind made the natural journey back to his last night in Philly.

What if he had succeeded?

In lucidity, he didn’t really know if it would be possible – to end it all with a blunt razor.

The urgency of his feelings returned fully fledged, drawing a sharp contrast to the way he felt now.

The burning will to survive.

The desire to escape.

To find Jim. To make Jim believe he was telling the truth.

To be on stage again singing to hundreds of adoring fans.

To be happy again.

It all seemed so impossible.

Underneath the line, Freddie wrote in capitals ‘I DON’T WANT TO DIE…’

He didn’t, he really did not.

He picked up a lighter crayon and scrawled ‘but I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.’

Freddie’s head rolled back as tiredness washed over him.

It was so hard – life was just so hard!

Freddie coughed – the kind of hacking cough that burned his lungs.

“You really are sick aren’t you?” Jamie whispered with sympathy. He pulled back the quilt. “Come on. Get in.”

Freddie shook his head.

“You don’t want to cuddle?” Jamie sounded genuinely surprised. “You cuddle all the time with your boyfriend, I’ve seen you, don’t deny it! You think you are so discreet.”

“Jim is my boyfriend” Freddie muttered into his sketchbook.

Jamie laughed “WAS your boyfriend. I’ll be your boyfriend if you want?” Jamie offered, suddenly less sure of himself. “I’ve never had a real life boyfriend before.”

A flash of anger flickered from Freddie’s eyes, as he met Jamie’s unsure ones.

“Are you even gay Jamie?” he snapped.

“You don’t even fucking know!” Freddie muttered under his breath, writing ‘psycho’ on the sketch pad in a curly font.

Freddie following on by drawing roses weaving in and out of the letters.

Even that word suddenly looked beautiful.

Freddie nervously reached out for the red crayon, and drew an enormous heart around the black kitten that had doubled in size on the page, and had become very fluffy.

Jamie shook his head as if erasing a thought. “Come on, get in the bed, you’re not gonna sit there all night are you?”

Freddie shook his head. “No” he said with more certainty than he felt, pulling himself stiffly to his feet. “You’re going to take me home.”

***********************

“So, you’re telling me you expect the NYC law enforcement to prioritise a twenty one year old male, who has been missing approximately five hours after an argument… because he has a cold?”

The deputy’s cocky expression was too much for Roger, who promptly pushed Jamie’s letter into his round face with the palm of his hand.

“He’s been fucking kidnapped you toss pot!” growled Roger, following the letter into the deputy’s face.

Brian clutched Roger’s shoulders, and pulled him away from the deputy before he went for his weapon.

“Officer…” Brian began sounding calmer than he felt. “Freddie is not just a band member, he’s our friend. We share our home with him, we know him …as well as anyone can know him…he doesn’t like his own company, he wouldn’t just go off alone in a strange city.” Brian gestured towards Jim. “Jim is his partn…personal assistant, he doesn’t go anywhere without him” Brian implored.

The deputy turned his attention to Jim.

“Yes, but you fought with him, could he have gone somewhere to cool off? Do you know how many of our missing persons don’t like their own company? Many don’t like themselves at all. Do you think your friend is a danger to himself?” asked the officer scribbling into his note book.

“No!” The boys yelled in unison, absolutely certain of their response.

Jim was losing patience with the deputy. “Look, do we have your help, or are we doing this ourselves?” he snapped.

The deputy took a deep breath. He realised this rather odd group of men were not going to give up.

“You’ve given me very little to go on. What do you know about this Jamie character? Do you have a photo of him?” asked the deputy.

“He’s been stalking Freddie since he got off the plane!” Roger emphasised. “He’s been at every concert. Turned up everywhere we were. Then a few days ago, in Philadelphia he introduced himself, hung out with us a bit, then turned up here in New York – the same day - uninvited!”

Jim hung his head.

He was so ashamed.

He had allowed this person into Freddie’s orbit.

He had thought he was helping Freddie by gently coaxing him out of his shell. Encouraging him to make friends in a strange city.

Brian had been quiet for some time, but he suddenly burst into action.

“The article….” he said, waving his arms around as though trying to conjure up the newspaper. “…there’s the newspaper article?”

“What are you thinking Bri?” asked Deaky quietly.

“That photo….” Brian said to Roger clicking his fingers “…the one of you and Freddie in the jelly pool…wasn’t Jamie there then?”

“Yes, yes!” Jim cut in, getting excited. “He was beside the pool when you tipped Freddie in. Is he in the photo?”

The boys all scrambled for the newspaper at once.

Towering at least a head over the other men, Brian plucked it out of their hands, and laid it on the table, squinting at the grainy black and white image.

“That’s him!” shouted Jim, pointing to a dismembered arm and shoulder – the only visible part of Jamie. “He was wearing that jacket that night, I remember.”

“Fuck!” yelled Roger, making everyone jump when he slammed his fist onto the table. “That could be anyone!”

“You’re missing the point Roger” said Brian. “Someone took that photo. Who is holding the camera? Did they take any more? Get the photographers name, he might remember Jamie.”

“There was a cameraman there that night” said Jim, fresh hope creeping into his voice. “He was actually filming, not just taking snapshots. He took footage of Freddie, Roger…and me for some reason. He must have got Jamie too.”

“How do we find him though?” asked Roger quietly, chewing his lip. “John Reid was hosting the event, reckon he had a guest list?”

“John? Nah, he lets anybody in” reasoned Brian.

“That’s no good” yelled Jim, panic creeping back into his voice. “Freddie needs to be home with us right now!” Jim turned away from the table, wringing his hands. Brian clapped a hand to his back in support.

Deaky turned to the deputy. “So, if we can get Jamie’s mugshot, can you find him?”

“If he has a criminal record we can” said the deputy. “But, if he hasn’t, it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. You have already mentioned half the states of America. This Jamie character could be from any one of them - that’s the problem.”

“No” said Deaky, uncharacteristically bold. “That’s YOUR problem.”

***********************

No sooner had the deputy left the room, Roger was pulling on his shoes.

“We need to go back to Philly. We need to find the cameraman, and persuade him to give the footage to the police.”

“Yes, all of us and our dog Timothy!” mimicked Brian. “We’re not the fucking Famous Five Roger!”

“We can’t just do nothing Bri!” whined Roger.

“What if he has taken off?” asked Jim quietly, arms wrapped around himself. “You didn’t see his face. He was so hurt. Would he harm himself?”

“Come down off the ledge Jim. You can’t think like that” reasoned Brian. “Freddie has got everything to live for, the policeman has just put ideas in your head at a low point.”

Roger clasped an arm around Jim’s shoulder and pulled him firmly towards him. “Freddie Mercury is a survivor! He’s a legend, an incredibly strong legend. He survived Paul Prenter after all.”

“Exactly….what if our argument was the last straw?” Jim’s voice rising in panic. “He….well…he sort of…depends on me for certain things. I hadn’t thought about it until now, what if he actually thinks we’re over, and just feels…alone?” Jim asked sadly.

“Freddie Mercury is not dependent on anyone Jim” Roger said a little harshly. His best friend was his hero.

“Come on lads” Deaky piped up, joining in the conversation for the first time since the deputy had left armed with the letters.

“We need to pull together. Between us, we have the skills to find Freddie. Best case scenario, he emptied the mini bar, went out to find more booze, and got away before Jamie grabbed him. Worst case – Jamie has got him. We’ve got the letter Jim. We’ve got no reason to think Freddie would harm himself – argument or no argument. My money would be on Jamie…now, is there a photographer’s name in the by-line?”

As usual, Deaky had it right.

*************************

Jamie gently brushed a lock of hair from Freddie’s forehead, as he brushed his teeth.

The men were standing close together, crowded around the sink in the small bathroom.

Jamie had surprised Freddie with a brand new tooth brush.

Fresh.

Still in its packaging, and it was amazing how much better something so simple was making him feel.

Freddie took his time, brushing each tooth.

It gave him something to do.

Made him feel as though his action could somehow bring about the next action, and put an end to the waiting.

People brushed their teeth before they went out – before they did something important.

Freddie couldn’t stop coughing.

He really did feel very poorly now, and he longed to crawl into his bed.

When he felt unwell yesterday, he had gone home.

Despite their earlier irritation with each other, Freddie had known on an intuitive level that Jim would be waiting. That Jim COULD make him feel better, as he had promised he could when Freddie had locked himself in the bathroom in Philly.

Their relationship had been something special.

It had been unique.

Freddie had experience of a lot of men.

Not one of them had taken it away – the ache, the fear, the sense of responsibility.

Freddie didn’t have to think about a thing.

He didn’t even have to put himself to bed.

For once in his life he had dropped at someone’s feet, and they had taken care of him – and he had let them.

“You’re so pretty” Jamie whispered in awe, shattering Freddie’s thoughts. “Has anyone ever told you that? What is it like to be so pretty? To have friends, and lovers?”

Freddie couldn’t look into Jamie’s eyes, he was too close.

He needed some space.

“Can I kiss you….just once…” Jamie leaned in closer, he couldn’t take his eyes from Freddie’s lips.

Freddie stepped away quickly putting some space between them, but Jamie followed, clasping Freddie’s hands between his, shocked at how cold he was.

“Stop shaking” soothed Jamie, holding Freddie’s hand tightly. “I meant what I said, I’m nice Freddie!”

“Why me Jamie?” Freddie’s voice was barely a whisper.

“What do you mean?” Jamie asked quizzically.

“You’ve singled me out, you’ve fucked up my relationship, you’ve put my friends in danger - you’ve obviously put some thought into this – why – why me?” Freddie asked carefully.

“Isn’t it obvious by now? I love you Freddie!” Jamie stressed. “I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. When are you going to get it?” Jamie paused for breath, as though his emotions were getting the better of him. “You won’t always feel like this. Jim’s gone – forget him! I can make you happy Freddie, if you would just give me a chance….please? I’ve told you a million times I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t hurt you….not in the way you think…”

Suddenly Jamie pulled Freddie’s hand towards his crotch. Stunned, Freddie snapped his hand back quickly, but not before he felt the lifelessness there.

“W-what is wrong with you?” Freddie stammered shyly.

“I have neurological erectile dysfunction” Jamie said candidly, without his usual hesitancy.

“What is that?” asked Freddie, his cheeks colouring with the awkwardness of the conversation.

Jamie shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, I got it off my Father when I was a boy.”

Freddie smiled softly, realising he was holding some of the cards after all.

“Ok” he said flirtatiously flicking his hair. “Ok…you win. You made your case. I will kiss you Jamie, but if you love me, you’ll let me speak to Roger first. I won’t tell him where we are - I promise – I just want to know he’s ok, and tell him not to worry about me - ok?”

Without waiting for Jamie’s response, Freddie quickly grabbed the door handle.

Jamie was quicker.

He slammed the bathroom door, trapping them inside.

****************

“Ok” said Brian, placing the receiver into it’s cradle gently. “The last bus to Philly leaves in half an hour. If you’re going to make it, you need to get a move on. My next call will be to the police department in Philadelphia. I’ll let them know you are coming, and you need answers from the newspaper crew immediately. We can’t get them out of their beds to do our biding, but the police can.”

Roger was already checking his jacket pocket for his wallet. Deaky had not removed his jacket from the moment he had entered the room hours ago.

Brian began to hand the newspaper to Roger, then changed his mind and gave it to Deaky instead.

“Do not let anyone take that away. It’s the only link we have to the photographer. It’s our only link to Freddie.

Brian turned back to the phone, and tearing off a piece of Freddie’s pink notebook he scribbled the hotel phone number on it. “Make sure the police correspond with John Reid. He may have already made the same inquires, but we don’t want any time wasting, or anything falling through the cracks.”

Brian turned to Jim. “Jim, I need you to locate John, and let him know what’s happening. It does feel like hours since we saw him, but he might have an update.”

Jim shook his head firmly. “Sorry Brian, but I’m not leaving this room. Freddie might walk through that door at any moment. When he does, he will find me right here.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Okay. I’ll go.”

Brian glowered at Roger and Deaky before waving his arms towards the door. “Go on then! You’re going to miss the bus.”

The boys made their way out into the night.

***********************

Jamie pushed Freddie hard against the tiles, a hand on each shoulder.

“Not a chance!” he breathed hard into Freddie’s ear. “You think I’m an idiot? You won’t have any contact with your precious friends until you convince me that you love me as much as I love you.”

Freddie couldn’t think.

He couldn’t breathe.

Jamie was far too close.

His heart thumped in his chest. Blood pumping the oxygen to his fevered muscles, begging them to run, but the message could not get through.

Freddie examined Jamie’s face.

The dark eyes.

The greasy lengths of hair falling messily across his forehead.

The thin lips.

The pale skin.

He was young like Freddie. Perhaps he too craved love and affection.

I can do this, Freddie thought as the age old familiar wave of repulsion crawled up his cold body.

Freddie closed his eyes when Jamie’s lips came closer.

Suddenly Freddie imagined he felt Jim’s warm hand clasp his own, and the familiar gentle Irish lilt entered his mind; _“No one has the right to touch you without your permission honey.”_

“No!” shouted Freddie as he pushed Jamie violently away, but Jamie wouldn’t budge.

Freddie gathered all of his strength in his starving, fevered state and pushed.

He rebounded, his head slamming violently into the tiled wall.

The darkness closed in and Freddie slumped to the floor at Jamie's feet.


	28. Encounters: Shooting Star - Dear Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Reid whips the Queen boys into something resembling a military team, after Roger remembers something vitally important about Jamie.  
Struggling to cope with his situation, Freddie recalls a number of more happy times in his recent life, and suddenly realises just how much he means to Jim.  
Jim’s sanity is crumbling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So dear friends….I do hope this makes sense! Please do shout if anything confuses you. A large section of this came to me in a dream, so not only am I trying to interpret Freddie’s dreams, I’m also interpreting my own!
> 
> The italic sections are dreams

Jim gasped, and grabbed at the arms of the chair, pulling himself upright.

He could still feel the freezing murky water of the Hudson River crashing over his head, as he gulped frantically for the last few lungful’s of air before being dragged under.

His body freezing from the neck down.

He looked wildly around him, until his eyes fell upon Brian, and the reality of his life took it’s turn to crash over him.

Freddie was missing.

The room was in silence.

Brian was reading a magazine by lamplight.

The lamp, and the light from the street casting an eerie glow over the room.

The sense of everything being wrong.

Jim missed the whirl of activity that being beside Freddie brought.

The constant wheel of entertainment.

The noise, the light, the energy, and the giggles.

It was wrong that he was napping in a chair in the early hours of the morning.

It was wrong that Brian was present, as though installed to prevent Jim from doing anything sinister.

It was wrong that Freddie wasn’t curled up safe in his arms.

“Can Freddie swim?” snapped Jim, making Brian jump at the sudden intrusion on his thoughts.

“Swim??” asked Brian bemused. “I have no idea mate.”

“When he comes home, we need to make sure Freddie can swim” said Jim, raising stiffly from the chair. “If he can’t, we need to teach him.”

Brian frowned, then raised his eyebrows, deciding against challenging his friend under the circumstances. “If you say so ….Jim, are you alright?”

Jim wandered over to the window, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to still his shivering.

“No. Shit dream” he grunted, wondering if this is what Freddie endured every night of his life.

“He can’t go through this Brian. Wherever he is, whatever he’s thinking right now, it’ll finish him.” Jim clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob.

He couldn’t fall apart.

He had to be strong when Freddie came home.

Jim starred out of the window, and up at the sky.

It had been some years since he had thought about a higher power.

Probably around the time he had been forced to leave Ireland. To avoid the shame his homosexuality brought upon a predominantly catholic community.

“Please God, just let Freddie be returned to us. We can deal with it, whatever – just bring him home safe” Jim whispered into the ether.

Brian unfolded his long legs from the chair, picked up Freddie’s blanket and attempted to wrap it around Jim’s shoulders.

Jim shook it off violently. “No! That’s Freddie’s. He needs it” Jim shouted, but he couldn’t resist snuggling the blanket close to his face.

“I’ve been going over and over the facts” said Brian, putting the kettle on. “I can’t help but think we’ve missed something. And why haven’t the police called yet?” Brian looked wildly around the room as though a policeman might suddenly manifest with the answers they were looking for.

“I bet they are doing fuck all” spat Jim. “You heard the copper, he didn’t take us seriously. We should go look for him ourselves” said Jim resolutely, despite his refusal to help when Deaky had suggested the same.

“Where are you going to look Jim?” snapped Brian sarcastically, voice still heavy with fatigue and concern. “Are you gonna roam the streets of New York, checking every person that looks lost to see if it’s Freddie?”

“I can’t just sit here Brian!” roared Jim. Softening his voice, he continued “Maybe Freddie escaped Jamie, and got lost trying to find the hotel.”

“You need to be here when Freddie gets home Jim” offered Brian, hands in the air.

A few moments later, he continued. “It’s something I’ve been trying to put off….” Brian said quietly, scared to broach the subject “…but, I think we need to call Freddie’s parents?”

“Yeah, I’ll call them right now!” snapped Jim. “I’ll introduce myself to his father. You don’t know me, but I’m calling to tell you your boy is missing somewhere in New York City with a madman. By the way, your only son is gay, and I’m the shit boyfriend that drove him away!”

“Jim, whatever is happening, you can’t keep blaming yourself” reasoned Brian. “You didn’t tell Jamie to do whatever idiotic scheme is in his head! I haven’t known you long, but I know you adore Freddie. Whatever you think you said to him won’t have been as bad as you think it was. I think it’s fair to say now that he hasn’t gone off on his own, and I’m sorry for suggesting otherwise, but he knows you love him Jim.”

Jim bowed his head.

If only that were true.

Jim knew that if he carved ‘I love Freddie’ into his scalp with a compass, Freddie would find reason to doubt Jim’s love for him.

“I wasn’t there Brian! That’s my job – to be there for Freddie in every capacity. In fact, when John gets back, I’ll tender my resignation” said Jim resolutely.

Brian’s jaw dropped open. “You’d just leave us – leave Freddie – like that?! Whatever will you do?”

Jim shook his head. “No. No. I didn’t mean leave Freddie. If by some chance a miracle happens, and I’m lucky enough to get Freddie back, I’m never leaving his side again, but he needs a proper bodyguard. Someone who knows what they’re doing, not someone who invites madmen into his hotel suite” Jim spat bitterly.

Brian didn’t know what to say.

He could feel Jim’s anguish.

It was painful to watch his even headed friend crumble into chaos, but nothing he could say was helping.

Brian resigned himself to the fact that the only person who could help - was Freddie.

***********************

Freddie cried out as pain rumbled around his head like thunder.

He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or not.

He felt the world spin, and suddenly it was as though he was upside down, spiraling round and round.

Never stopping.

Until he descended into blackness once more.

************************

The simultaneous ring of the telephone, and knock at the door made both Brian and Jim jump in the dead of night.

Jim rushed to the door, snatching the handle and yanking it open. Joe and John crossed the threshold with the same gusto.

Brian picked up the phone, and everyone began talking at once.

Jim struggled; his brain not able to absorb the flow of words after hours of silence, but simultaneously trying too hard to listen. Wanting desperately to know, and comprehend everything that was being said.

Brian raised a hand to shush the group, and covered the receiver while he yelled for quiet.

“The police have identified Jamie from the newspaper clipping” he said with a smile, conveying Roger’s news to the room.

Jim threw his head back and exhaled loudly at the first piece of good news they had received.

“He’s known to the police. He’s been in and out of young offenders institutes most of his life. He was only released six months ago. Struggled all his life with mental illness…..oh and his name isn’t Jamie.”

“Oh my God – Freddie” cried Jim, frantic at the thought of Freddie being held by such a man. “Have they found Freddie? Is he ok?”

Brian shook his head, and continued.

“Roger remembered a poignant detail when he and Deaky were on the bus to Philly. Jamie said the other night at dinner that he was staying in his Uncle Tom’s apartment on 14th Street. He’s not the best at this …espionage malarkey, so I think we are safe to assume he was telling the truth. After all, he was stupid enough to sign the note he left for Freddie!” Brian rolled his eyes, while simultaneously sending up a silent prayer that Jamie’s incompetence might be his downfall.

“Jamie’s I.D hasn’t been used to buy a bus, train and plane ticket, so the Philly police think he’s likely to still be in New York, and have handed the case back to the NYPD. Obviously John has Freddie’s passport, so Jamie can’t take him out of the country without fake I.D” continued Brian, scrunching up his face trying to get the information out quickly enough.

“Yes, come back as soon as you can” Brian spoke into the phone authoritatively. “If the police have identified Jamie, there’s no need for you two to be in Philly. Nobody ate last night? Roger, you’re not going to feel any better until you start eating again. Ok, see you soon…..and lads….this could be it!”

Brian hung up the phone, and turned to face a livid John Reid.

“Never shush me again you cheeky little whelp” John snapped, glaring at Brian while turning beetroot red with anger.

Eventually John turned to face the others.

“The NYPD are currently contacting every property owner on 14th Street. It’s a tall order. The street is a couple of miles long with properties on either side – thankfully, there are more registered businesses than homes. Businesses have people coming and going, that makes it difficult to hide an unwilling house guest. I need to go back to my room to coordinate the search for Freddie with the police on the phone. Joe here has volunteered to go check out the most likely residential abodes, he needs some help, and that’s where you come in.”

“I’ll go” volunteered Brian. “Jim mentioned earlier that Freddie might have given Jamie the slip and be wandering about. He wasn’t well when he left, and he doesn’t know New York. He won’t have a clue where he is. Come on Joe, we’ll split up and take it block by block, and meet back at the coffee kiosk outside in say …an hour? Take a notebook. We can let John know which properties the police should check first.”

“I need to get back” snapped John irritably. “Can I leave this with you? The police were looking for other links to Jamie, like who is Uncle Tom – a family member, or someone else that Jamie knows. Do any of the home owners have links to Jamie, and so on. Anyway….” John waved his hand “…you’re wasting my time. I need to get back.”

Brian put a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Not you Jim. You stay here in case Freddie comes home. We’ll fetch you something to eat.”

Jim embraced Brian. “Please Brian, please, bring our boy home safely.”

*******************

_The roar in Freddie’s ears was too loud._

_There was stamping, and clapping, and something else….aggression, anger, the crashing of equipment. “Come on Rapunzel, let’s have you down from there.” Suddenly Freddie felt himself being lifted. He was looking into the warmest hazel eyes. The corners of soft lips crinkling in amusement._

_The same eyes appeared a fraction of a second later. This time they were filled with concern “Lie back for me sweetheart while you get your bearings. You really are safe here. Can you tell me what happened to your wrists?” _

Gingerly opening his eyes, Freddie peered down at his wrists. He could barely make out what body parts belonged to him, the room was so dark.

His eyelids were so heavy.

It was easier just to close them for a while longer.

_The crashing became rhythmical. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the sound of the big top. The arms around him were strong, so strong he could barely breath, a large pair of hands clutched at his buttocks. He was excited, and shocked. It was naughty. This wasn't his boyfriend. He could hear Bill calling him from a distance. He nipped gently at his bottom lip as he stared up into soft eyes filled with passion and wonder….and something else….love…?_

_Freddie heard himself scream as the door flew towards him. Tearing from it’s hinges with a loud crack as it is smashed into the wall. Tender eyes were looking deeply into his, willing him, needing him, pleading with him. Then he was back in the strong arms, feeling his feet leave the ground as he hid his face into the warm skin of his neck. It was all over, and after what felt like years, he was safe._

_His hands were in his own hair, gripping onto the feathered ends as pleasure washed over him. The hazel eyes were screwed tightly, as though he was trying not to let go too soon, as though he was restraining his own enjoyment in favour of Freddie’s. Freddie cried out, yanking harder on his hair as he was entered slowly. Delicious sensations making their way up his spine, and down his thighs simultaneously. Then he was shuddering, head thrown back, before he was pulled down onto a broad chest. Warm arms were around him, fingers in his hair…_

_A scream. A scream of a different kind……_

Freddie’s eyes snapped open. The darkness flooded in.

He was alone.

The pain in his head was excruciating.

Freddie attempted to raise his arms, to rub his eyes, but realised he couldn’t.

Only he hands were free.

He was restrained.

Something was wrapped tightly around his torso. A tether, binding him into his seat.

Blind panic overtook him as he attempted to jump to his feet.

Freddie couldn’t move his feet either.

They too were tethered to the chair.

His eyes darted wildly around the room, trying desperately to adjust, to make out where he was.

He could see a sleeping form on the bed, and then he remembered.

Jamie.

“Jim!!!” he screamed, before exploding into tears, as his dreams came rushing back to him.

It was Jim.

It had only ever been Jim

Jim had loved him. Jim had cared. Jim had wiped his tears, and shared his joy, and done his fucking laundry. Jim had even cleaned up his best friend’s vomit.

It was too late.

Freddie had lost it all. The most perfect relationship he had ever had.

So perfect that he hadn’t even recognised it.

Freddie dropped his head onto his chest, and bit down hard onto his knuckles as the sobs overtook him.

His body shook with the ferocity of his grief, as tear after tear dripped from his chin.

He had to get out of here, he had to find Jim, he had to convince him that he loved him. That his kiss with Joe meant nothing. That Jamie had lied. All of it lies.

Freddie tried to slow his sobs.

Struggling to get his breathing under control how Jim has showed him.

Battling to stem the bile that was forcing its way up his throat.

He had to formulate a plan.

Jamie was sleeping.

He needed to find the key.

Freddie’s eyes darted around the room. Differently this time - with intent now - plotting his escape.

He pulled at the restraints.

His hands were free.

If he could just free his feet, he could get into the kitchen.

He could find something that would jimmy the lock.

Something that would cut through the restraints.

Get out before Jamie would wake.

A piercing scream stunned Freddie further into his seat.

Terrifying him.

Then another.

The sleeping form on the bed was writhing and flailing. He was crying out helplessly, as more screams overtook him.

“No, no!” Jamie screamed, over and over again.

“I don’t want to. No. stop!”

Freddie could feel his tears starting to coarse down his cheeks again, as he was thrust into the dead of many of his own nights.

The darkness.

The fear.

The pain.

The overwhelming need to escape.

Then Jim.

Jim’s warm arms around him.

Jim’s gentle voice shushing him.

The beautiful man who would sit for hours on a cold floor just to hold him.

The man who had packed his blanket, even when Freddie had insisted he didn’t need it.

What would Jim do?

He wouldn’t leave Freddie alone, and Freddie wouldn’t leave Jamie alone.

Freddie rocked violently on his chair. Trying desperately to tip it past it’s centre of balance, so that he could get onto his knees, while squeaking with trepidation every time he thought it might tip.

With a crash, Freddie landed heavily on his side. The chair taking the brunt of the impact as his slim frame didn’t fill all of it.

He crawled clumsily, with the chair still strapped to his back over to the bed.

The dark was disabling.

Freddie couldn’t reach Jamie, the tether stopped him from extending his arms.

“Jamie. Jamie!” Freddie called softly into the darkness, as Jamie battled frantically with his own quilt.

“Jamie!! “ Freddie shouted a little louder. “You’re having a nightmare. You’re safe. It’s me Freddie. You’re friend.”

Still no response.

Freddie sat back onto his knees in despair.

The weight of the chair heavy on his dainty frame. His voice hoarse from coughing. He couldn’t make himself heard.

His stomach groaned loudly in the darkness as the stabbing pain of hunger overtook him, forcing him to take stock of his own dire circumstances.

He was cold, exhausted, hungry and in pain.

He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking to and fro, and began to sing. “So dear friends, your love has gone….

*******************

The sheriff gestured to his colleagues, pointing at the apartment door.

He raised a hand for them to halt.

He quickly checked his notebook to make sure he had the correct apartment number.

It was a horrible block.

Aged and tatty.

Desperately in need of some tender loving care.

The kind of place that was sublet time and again, making it difficult to locate the legal owner.

The perfect place to hide a kidnap victim.

The sheriff placed his ear to the apartment door.

There were stifled sounds coming from within.

He thought he could hear muted crying, but there was something else.

The voice soared.

It was beautiful.

Quiet, angelic, gentle, but crystal clear “…go to sleep and dream again, soon your hopes with rise and then…”

Didn’t the deputy say that the missing English boy was a singer?

The sheriff signaled to the two officers counting down from three with his fingers, before issuing the signal to enter.


	29. Encounters: Shooting Star - Revolving Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unaware that Freddie has been rescued, Jim torments himself with thoughts of what his future may hold. Using the powers of positive thinking he prepares his and Freddie’s room for a hopeful reunion.  
Freddie is scared and confused by his rescue…..but what will he tell the police?  
A cryptic message from the police devastates Jim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still not sure if I like this chapter lovies….let me know what you think!

The moment Brian left the room and Jim found himself alone, he couldn’t sit still.

He set about preparing his and Freddie’s room for an event that he could only pray would happen.

Jim allowed himself a moment to think happy thoughts.

The recent suspected whereabouts of Jamie was the first breakthrough they’d had since Jim had last laid eyes on Freddie.

To imagine welcoming him home – unharmed – was good for the soul, despite the likelihood that Freddie would never forgive Jim for his outburst.

Imagining Freddie back in his arms – in his bed – was more than Jim would allow himself to dream of.

It was a dream come true that Freddie had ever been there in the first place.

Freddie was special – a shooting star – Jim was pretty damn ordinary.

Was there a chance? Any chance? No matter how slim that there was any part of Jim’s life that Freddie still wanted to share – now that he had seen a side that Jim was less proud of?

Jim picked up Freddie’s note, and allowed his eyes to feast on the few words that were written there.

“Darling Jim, you make me the happiest I have ever been. All my love, your Freddie.”

The last words Freddie had intended Jim to see.

Words written after they had fought.

After Jim had stormed from the room.

Logical thought struggled through the grief. Freddie had written those words after he had seen Jim’s ugly side – could he really still love him?

Jim’s methodical mind worked along a timeline, noting the slivers of time that he and Freddie had been apart since they had touched down in America.

Not time enough to have sexual liaisons with another man - barely time enough to have a quickie in the bathroom - but Jim had accused Freddie anyway.

Jim had known how sensitive Freddie could be.

How he struggled to understand his own emotions.

How he struggled to express them through any medium but music.

How Jim had ridden rough shod over his attempt at expression.

Jim acknowledged that he had reacted the way he had because of his jealousy of Joe – not because of Jamie.

How instinctively Freddie selected his friends.

How mysteriously he hummed with energy, drawing perfect strangers to him like a magnet.

He flitted, he flirted, he was as gentle as a butterfly.

It wasn’t Jim’s job to help Freddie make friends, he was perfectly adept at that.

It was Jim’s job to protect Freddie from those he intuited to be a threat. Those Freddie had already decided he didn’t want in his orbit, but was too polite to say so.

Men like Jamie.

Jim’s mind turned to the other letter.

Jamie’s letter – now in the possession of the police.

The words “…I care for him more than you ever will…” leapt to the forefront of Jim’s mind.

Jim wasn’t a competitive man, but that simply could not be true.

His love and compassion for Freddie has taken over his world – and certainly his sanity.

That didn’t stop Jim from hoping - if Jamie thought he cared for Freddie, surely he wouldn’t harm him.

But how much harm had he done already?

Taking a timid boy away from his small group of tried and tested friends in a foreign land.

Had Jamie seen that vulnerability in Freddie? Or had he only seen the rock star?

Answers.

Jim needed answers.

He was a fool for Freddie.

Had Freddie been fucking Jamie …or Joe for that matter…Jim would have fought to regain his affection.

Freddie didn’t realise that though, because despite the super star pout, the acerbic wit, and outrageous attire, Freddie thought himself unworthy.

Jim would have tried.

He wouldn’t stand a chance against those bolder, more attractive men, but he would try.

Freddie was too special to let go.

There was no one else like Freddie for Jim.

“Wherever you are sweetheart, I love you” Jim muttered to himself. “Even if you don’t want me anymore, just know that someone loves you. Deeply and insanely.”

Jim made his way into the bathroom. Touching each of the towels, making sure they were warm, dry and fluffy.

Freddie obsessed over such small details.

Jim turned his attention to the shower area.

It was still neat, clean and tidy after he had unpacked yesterday.

In another lifetime, before he had yelled at Freddie.

In his head, Jim formulated a plan.

He would prepare the room for Freddie, as though he was simply at rehearsal, or at a show.

He would arrange every little touch of comfort that Freddie might need when he returned home.

'If he returned home' - a demon voice echoed in Jim’s head, as he imagined spending the rest of his time in America alone in this room, while Freddie crammed in with Roger.

Jim shook his head dismissing the thought.

It was foolhardy to surmise the future. It would only bring him down.

Jim picked up Freddie’s blanket, and gave it a squeeze before shaking it out and folding it over the radiator to warm.

He flicked on the kettle, and turned his attention to the bed, deciding to strip off the sheets and put on fresh ones. He plumped the few pillows that were there – not nearly enough for his little burrower – but he arranged them the way Freddie liked.

Freddie’s freshly laundered costumes still in their polythene bags were hung in the wardrobe.

The kettle boiled and Jim made himself a strong black coffee, before turning his attention to himself.

He was a disgrace.

He dropped the clothes he was standing in to the floor, and put on fresh ones.

Returning to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash on cologne.

As Jim lined up Freddie’s fragrances and shaving soap, an odd thought returned to mind….Freddie’s razor was missing.

Jim shook Freddie’s empty toiletry case, then turned it inside out.

Freddie had shaved that morning hadn’t he? Before he came out of the bathroom looking all soft and sleepy.

Jim touched his own razor.

It was dry.

Of course it was. He hadn’t shaved before Freddie went missing, he hadn’t even left the hotel. Even if Freddie had borrowed his razor it would be dry by now.

It had to be here.

The deputy’s word echoed around Jim’s head “Do you think your friend is a danger to himself?”

Brian had said that the police thought they knew Jamie’s possible whereabouts. They could not know for certain that Freddie was with him.

Freddie wouldn’t…would he?

Jim picked up the coffee cup and launched it violently at the wall.

The cup shattered on impact, black coffee spattering up the embossed paper.

**********************

The door crashed open, the plinth splintering down the centre breaking off into several chunks.

Three voices boomed out instructions in harmony; guns raised, scattering into the apartment made to sound like twenty men.

The officers quickly marked two occupants in the dim shadow filled light, both screaming.

One lying in the bed, the other on his knees on the floor with what appeared to be a wooden chair strapped to his back.

“Daniel Crossley….Daniel Crossley, you are under arrest for the suspected kidnapping of UK citizen Freddie Mercury under federal code 18 U.S. C section 1201.”

The officers split direction, both boys remained curled up small screaming.

“Freddie Mercury, identify yourself!” the officer boomed.

“I’m here!” Freddie cried shakily. “Get it off me!” he demanded, as the officer pulled him upright by the chair.

Jamie howled in fear as the officers yanked him out of the bed, and cuffed him.

“Don’t hurt him, please” said Freddie tearfully. “He didn’t mean it. He’s just mixed up.”

**********************

The telephone burst to life, and Jim had to scrape himself off the ceiling due to the sudden noise.

He snatched up the receiver and barked into it, expecting Brian to be on the other end.

“Hey, is this Mr Jim Hutton?” came a distant American twang.

“Yes, it is” said Jim, putting on his telephone voice.

“It’s Deputy Davis of the 9th precinct, NYPD Sir. We have recovered Mr Mercury from an apartment block on 14th Street.”

“Recovered….?” Jim’s voice was little more than a whisper.

“Yes, we’ve got him down the precinct for questioning, with another man charged with his kidnapping, we would……”

“Where are you?” snapped Jim, interrupting the officer, while hopping up and down trying to pull his shoe on.

“We’re at the 9th precinct Sir… as I just said…..anyway, Mr Mercury was very agitated that we find out that YOU are ok sir? He seemed to think…..well, he was convinced that you were being harmed in some way.”

“Me?” said Jim mystified. “I’ve been here at the hotel all along.”

“Right…” said the officer, drawing out the word in confusion. “Ok, well I shall tell Mr Mercury you’re fine….erm…and we’ll try to get to the bottom of his concerns.”

“Tell Freddie I’m coming right now” said Jim shakily.

“Don’t come down to the precinct Sir. You’ll be in the way” said the officer.

“In the way!” shrieked Jim.

“Mr Mercury will be in questioning for quite some time, and from there he may require medical attention…”

“Why?” barked Jim “What the fuck are you doing to him?”

“Not us sir…” the officer seemed unsure how much he should say. “Mr Mercury seems ok. He’s asked for a Mr…John Reid to accompany him during questioning, who has been notified and is on his way.”

Everything was suddenly too loud for Jim, as his heart crumbled to his knees.

In the space of a two minute conversation he had got Freddie back, and lost him again.

He was being frozen out.

“Don’t worry sir” said the officer, sensing Jim’s distress. “These things can be lengthy, but as soon as Mr Mercury is free to go we’ll bring him to his American registered address, room 540 of the Washington Jefferson hotel – which is where you are right now, so just sit tight sir.”

With that the officer rang off.

Jim witnessed the room spin around him as he slumped into the chair, one shoe on, one still in his hand.

In his moment of need, Freddie had wanted John.

He hadn’t wanted Jim.

Jim had lost Freddie.

His body was wracked with unshed tears.

*****************************

Mere moments passed before Jim leapt to his feet.

“What the fuck am I doing?!” he exclaimed to himself, hopping up and down on one foot while he tried to pull the other shoe on which was not cooperating.

He had lost enough through doubt and uncertainty.

He had to know for sure.

Freddie had to tell him to his face that he did not want to be with him anymore.

In a temper he flung the shoe across the room, and grabbed for the door handle. Flinging the door wide as he thrust himself through it.

Jim raced down the corridor to the lifts, repeatedly hitting the call button.

The lift would not come quickly enough, and Jim raced towards the stairwell, crashing through the door and hurling himself down the stairs – two or three at a time.

Several people stared at him as he raced across the hotel lobby, catching sight of John Reid’s back as he disappeared through the revolving door.

“John!” he yelled, struggling to catch the door as it swung around again.

The door eventually spat Jim out on the street, just in time to see John climb into a taxi, and be driven away.


	30. Encounters: Shooting Star - Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Jim are thrilled to be reunited, but both fear the other will still be angry about their argument.  
Jim is concerned about Freddie’s health, but should he be more concerned about his emotional well being….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I challenge you NOT to sing when you read this chapter lovies 😊  
On the subject of music though; two lovely readers suggested sound tracks for Shooting Star which are just beautiful😊 😊
> 
> Thank you to Cristalstarmochi for Ben Platt’s Share your Address https://youtu.be/UEjKQ33UnMY and to Ballet_Shoe for Elton John’s Shooting Star https://youtu.be/bVen9af1IIk  
Let us know what you think....

Every step was painful as Freddie made his way down the corridor, flanked by two enormous police officers.

He was tired.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had closed his eyes in comfort. Snuggled safe against his lovers side.

Jim hadn’t joined Freddie at the police station.

The officer had told him that Jim knew he was there, and Freddie was hurt and confused that Jim hadn’t come for him.

He was too tired to face what might be on the other side of that door.

Everything hurt too much.

He wanted to fall into bed, and forget the last sorry 48 hours.

More than anything Freddie wanted not to be alone, but equally he couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on Jim’s face again.

Freddie longed for Jim, but maybe it was better if Jim wasn’t here – better than facing the pain of losing the love of his life.

The pattern on the carpet swirled as Freddie placed his feet carefully, avoiding the plain sections between the patterns.

“Is Jim here?” Freddie asked nervously.

“He should be” replied the younger officer. “He wanted to come to the precinct, but I told him to wait here for you instead.”

Freddie’s heart soared.

So that’s why Jim didn’t come, not because he didn’t want to see him.

Why didn’t he come anyway? thought Freddie, a pout forming on his lips.

The trio stopped outside the door.

The officers knock made Freddie jump.

*******************************

There was a resounding thud on the door.

Jim’s heart pounded in unison.

That wasn’t Freddie’s knock.

It was too bold, not nearly rhythmical enough, but Jim had received word from the police that Freddie was on his way home right now.

It was funny how circumstance re-ordered priorities.

Jim hadn’t given a thought to what he would say if he came face to face with Freddie again. His apology, his feelings that had been so raw - so poignant - had been discarded the moment Brian and Roger had presented him with the kidnap note.

His thoughts had been entirely consumed with finding Freddie, and bringing him home safely.

Now that the moment had arrived.

Now that Freddie - hopefully - was just on the other side of the door, Jim didn’t quite know how to act.

Jim’s thoughts flashed back to the cruel things he had said to Freddie.

What would become of them if Freddie couldn’t forgive him?

It was in the lap of the Gods.

Jim gripped the door handle, and swung the door open widely.

Two officers were standing on the threshold.

Freddie appeared tiny between them.

Jim took in Freddie’s appearance.

He was tired – exhausted even – and very pale. His lips all chapped.

Freddie was still wearing the clothes he had been wearing when Jim had attacked him with wild and grossly unfair accusations yesterday.

Was that only yesterday?

His clothes that were not nearly warm enough to protect him from a New York night.

Where had he been held?

Had he been in comfort?

Had he even been indoors?

Jim staggered forward.

The rubber soles of his shoes catching on the carpet pile, nearly bringing him onto his knees.

His desire to pull Freddie into a smothering hug shadowed by his – and Freddie’s - need to behave in a socially acceptable manner in front of the officers.

Jim had spent many loving hours examining every inch of Freddie’s body; every expression, every gesture, every mannerism, and yet emotionally Freddie remained an enigma to him.

Jim had no idea what Freddie was feeling.

Freddie didn’t even look at him.

He didn’t raise his eyes from the ground, and Jim felt his heart twist painfully in his chest.

“Good evening sir. One very stubborn little rock star returned to you” said the officer proudly.

Jim pumped the elder officer’s hand enthusiastically. “Thank you so much. Freddie’s safe return was the only acceptable outcome, I don’t know quite how to thank you enough.”

Freddie skulked behind the younger officer, sneaking into the room, and made his way silently into the bathroom.

Jim had never been more torn.

He badly wanted to go to Freddie, he needed to go to him.

His body had never ached so badly with the need to hold Freddie close, to believe he was really home, safe where he belonged.

He also couldn’t dismiss the officers from his doorstep….they had information. They knew things that Jim needed to know to be able to help Freddie.

His quick mind trained to detail noted that the bathroom door had not been locked.

“Are you able to tell me anything about the conditions in which Freddie was found please?” Jim asked quietly, not wanting Freddie to overhear.

“Yes….and no sir.” The older officer said rather confusingly. “We didn’t attend the raid. Freddie was found in a tower block, some fourteen floors up. The apartment had been sublet to the man you identified as Jamie. Real name Daniel Crossley. He is known to the police, not for violent crime – or kidnapping up until now - he had been living in an institution for young offenders until he was 21, when he was released back into society. Largely unharmful, a lost sheep I suppose you could call him. Tends towards obsessional behaviour. He attended a concert, set eyes on young Freddie, and become fixated with him.”

Jim exhaled loudly.

It was the best outcome he could have hoped for.

He could be accused of doing the same thing.

“Is there anything I need to know….anything that may have happened during his time with Crossley…anything I can do to help Freddie?” Jim asked quietly.

“Freddie appears to be unharmed, aside from a rather violent cough” the officer continued. “He has refused medical assistance, which to my mind is a mistake. He complained of hunger to his colleague, but has been vomiting most of the day. Says it’s just a fever. Perhaps persuade him to see a doctor? I would also encourage him to talk about what happened. He hasn’t said a word to us about how he came to be in the possession of young Crossley, just that he’s unharmed. Freddie was bound by his torso and ankles to a wooden chair when the cops arrived, but he doesn’t want to press charges – which is odd in itself - as he was clearly restrained against his will. The state will of course pursue the case, we can’t have young Crossley out in the general population. Freddie’s associate Mr Reid is also pursuing charges on behalf of Freddie, so anything you can get out of him will be of great help to the case.”

The officer put a finger to his lips. “It’s interesting… Freddie was very keen that we treat Crossley well, and became quite agitated when we placed him in handcuffs. He seemed to identify with young Daniel somehow. His reaction to the stressful situation struck me as odd too…Freddie reacted exactly the same way to police presence as young Daniel did – one being rescued, and one being apprehended. It’s quite odd.”

Jim wasn’t quite sure what to say.

He wouldn’t betray Freddie’s confidence – even if it was for the good of the case.

Jim had heard of instances where hostages became protective of their capturers, but that process usually took weeks – month, or years - not twenty four hours.

“He had a difficult start in life.” Jim whispered to the officer, not wanting to say any more. “That’s as much as I know.”

“Right…” The police officer raised an eyebrow, expectation that Jim would continue. “He’s very…..stoic for one so young.”

Jim shook his head. “I can’t tell you more… I don’t know any more. Freddie keeps his own counsel.”

The older officer hung in the doorway, when the younger man stepped forward. He reached into his chest pocket and produced a folder piece of paper.

“Freddie was adamant that we returned to the apartment to retrieve this for him. Please would you make sure he receives it?” the officer asked.

Jim took the paper nervously, memories of the last folded scrap of paper he had opened returning in an unpleasant blast of cold air in his stomach.

“Yes, of course. Thank you” he said, eager to get the officers out of the room so he could go to Freddie.

Jim shook the hand of each of the officers in turn.

************************

Jim tapped the edge of the folded note against his lips a couple of times, unsure if to open the paper, or simply hand it to Freddie.

Curiosity got the better of him. 

If it was important enough for Freddie to insist it was retrieved, it must be vital information.

Jim carefully and silently unfolded the note.

He couldn’t keep the smile from his lips.

It was an enormous black cat – or perhaps it was a very fluffy kitten.

The cat's features and limbs were dwarfed by an inordinate amount of black fur. Its eyes were a brilliant green. Around the cat was drawn a beautiful red heart. The cat also wore a golden heart on it’s collar.

That was one very pampered kitty.

Perhaps Freddie had been wishing luck upon himself.

Arranged around the cat were a number of treble clefs drawn in blues and purples, and some fractured hearts drawn in various shades of pink.

Freddie had not only had access to writing materials, it seems he’d had a range of colouring crayons.

Words were drawn in a minute scrawl.

‘You’ve captured my love,’ ‘you’ve stolen my heart,’ ‘you’ve changed my life,’ ‘I would surely die if you dismiss me from your love,’ ‘don’t leave me here all by myself’ ‘I’ll get no sleep till I find you….’

Jim sighed heavily.

Were they Freddie’s thoughts about their relationship?

Another relationship?

Were they lyrics?

Jim couldn’t be sure, but his heart broke all over again to think of Freddie frightened and heartbroken scribbling onto a page.

‘Don’t leave me here all by myself’…had Freddie been kept solitary? Jim thought, looking for clues.

Freddie hated to be alone.

Had that been the preferable option?

Jim dashed a tear with the back of his hand, and drew himself upright.

He started to re-fold the note, when he noticed a heavier type that had been scribbled out.

Jim held it up to the light, but could no longer make out what it had once said.

Jim placed it on the cabinet beside where Freddie slept.

As an afterthought he re-opened the note. Straightening it flat on the cabinet top. No secrets this time. Jim would ask Freddie about it later.

**************************

Jim knocked faintly on the bathroom door.

“It’s me, sweetheart...can I come in please?”

Silence.

Jim pushed softly on the door.

He had been correct earlier, it was unlocked.

Jim peered around the door, preparing to retreat, fully expecting a missile to be launched at him from inside.

Instead, Freddie was sitting on the down turned toilet lid, coughing violently into his hands, and didn’t even appear to have noticed Jim’s presence.

There was vomit in the sink.

Jim carefully walked into the room closing the door behind him, protecting Freddie from the outside world, but potentially exposing himself to Freddie’s wrath.

Freddie’s tired blood shot eyes met with Jim’s.

He looked exhausted.

“Are you still here?” Freddie asked calmly.

There was no anger in him – only defeat.

“I thought you might have fucked off home to London, left me to fuck my way through America one state at a time” Freddie whispered sadly.

Every word hit Jim square in the heart.

He deserved that.

He didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know what to do.

He was rooted to the spot.

The perimeter around Freddie almost hummed with fear, rejection, and resistance.

Suddenly, Jim knew how Freddie had felt yesterday, when he couldn’t speak.

When he couldn’t answer the questions that Jim had fired at him.

The barbed accusations.

There were no magical words that Jim could use to express what was in his heart.

Sorry would never be enough.

Jim staggered.

One foot towards Freddie, one foot towards the door; pointing in the direction he would surely and rightfully be ordered to go, but something seized him.

Freddie needed him.

Freddie might not want him – but he needed him.

In seconds Jim was on his knees, his arms outstretched, pulling Freddie tightly against his chest. A hand threaded Freddie’s hair, holding his head securely onto Jim's shoulder.

“W…what are you doing Jim?” spluttered Freddie astonished.

Jim pulled back slightly and pressed his forefinger gently to Freddie’s lips.

“Just for tonight, please darling, let’s not talk about our fight. We can talk tomorrow when you’re feeling better” Jim pleaded gently.

“Tomorrow?” Freddie stammered. “You mean, you will still be here tomorrow?”

Jim squeezed Freddie tightly, his heart splintering with every word that came from Freddie’s lips. “Of course I will still be here tomorrow, and the day after that. I LOVE you! I thought ….” Jim stuttered “…I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore for behaving so badly yesterday.”

“It’s always you that wants to fucking talk anyway” Freddie muttered into Jim’s shoulder, clinging tightly, making no attempt to pull away.

“I know, and I’ve been wrong. So very wrong darling. We can talk about that another time. I owe you the most enormous apology Freddie, but please, first we need to get you better.”

*******************

Freddie gripped Jim’s shoulders tightly, not daring to let go for a second.

He was here.

He was real.

He was warm.

Freddie buried his face into Jim’s neck, inhaling the scent of the man he loved and thought he would never touch again.

Before he could stop himself, Freddie sobbed loudly onto Jim’s shoulder.

As quickly as he started, he stuffed his grief back deep inside.

He couldn’t let Jim see him like this.

He had to be strong.

He must have looked a disgrace. He couldn’t allow himself to be reduced to a babbling idiot too.

“You’re safe baby. I promise. You’re safe” soothed Jim, his voice as wobbly as Freddie’s.

Neither man moved for a very long time.

Both were tearful when they eventually drew apart.

************************

Fate has blessed Freddie and Jim with an enormous shower, with seating.

Showering a weakened Freddie was much easier than showering a drunken Freddie; attempting to hold him upright with one hand, and shampoo his hair with the other.

Freddie sat meekly on the bench under the hot running water, coughing violently, while Jim massaged shampoo lovingly into his hair.

Freddie’s cough had got so much worse in the space of one fear filled evening, and Jim prayed he would recover sufficiently to sing tomorrow.

Freddie still wasn’t speaking between coughs, and Jim had to reassure himself with the thought that not every incident would lead to the reappearance of mutism.

Perhaps Freddie simply didn’t know what to say.

Jim rinsed Freddie’s hair clean of suds, when his fingers brushed a large swelling on the back of his head.

Freddie winched.

Jim frowned, and pulled Freddie towards his body, resting his forehead onto his shoulder, gently parting the hair so he could see the site of the swelling.

“I bumped my head on bathroom tile” muttered Freddie quietly.

It was some admission – that Freddie was offering any explanation at all.

“Darling, it’s enormous, have you got a headache?” asked Jim.

Freddie nodded sadly, then winced at the motion.

Jim was thankful that the skin wasn’t broken, but it was possible that Freddie was concussed – especially with the vomiting.

“Darling, do you think we should see a doctor? We can arrange a doctor to see you here in your room, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere?” Jim coaxed.

Freddie shook his head, and coughed violently.

Jim sighed heavily and held him close, before tipping his head back and looking into his eyes for signs of concussion.

Soft lips grazed his, and melted Jim on the spot.

He met Freddie’s sad eyes, smiling softly.

“Did you lose consciousness?” Jim asked concerned.

“No” Freddie lied.

“Darling, I know you have a violent opposition to doctors, but you need to know that I’ll only let this go so far. If I don’t see you getting better by morning, I’m calling a doctor – ok? I won’t leave your side the whole time, but I can’t in good conscience let you suffer. Alright?” Jim cringed with every loving word he spoke. The last thing he wanted was to alienate Freddie by forcing him to see the doctor if he really didn’t want to.

“Want me to brush your hair while it’s wet, or dry it first?” Jim asked curiously. Freddie could be mercurial about these things.

“Cut it off! All of it” Freddie snapped dramatically, his voice suddenly heavily laden with emotion.

Jim gasped.

“Cut it off?” Jim shrieked astonished.

Freddie violently pushed Jim’s hands out of his hair. “Yes, cut it off. I don’t want it long anymore. Just get rid of it all please!”

Jim didn’t know what to do.

He wasn’t going to cut off Freddie’s beautiful hair.

Jim was no hairdresser – not in this lifetime - and Freddie’s hair was just another mark of his beauty.

Jim crouched in front of Freddie, intending to ask him some questions, attempting to understand, when he realised that Freddie was on the edge of an impending panic.

“Jim, cut it off, or I will!” he screamed.

“But why sweetheart?” Jim asked softly - mystified, and becoming emotional.

It wasn’t the first time Jim had been overwhelmed by Freddie’s outbursts.

“It’s part of the bands image. You all have long hair. How will you feel tomorrow when it’s gone, and you can’t get it back? Just take a little time to think about it, and maybe discuss it with the band hey? If you still want to cut it we’ll get a hairdresser to come up and do it nicely for you. Whatever style you want” Jim reasoned.

The sound was like thunder, as three sets of fists hammered on the door.

Jim switched off the shower, and handed Freddie a towel. “That’ll be the boys. We’ve all been frantic. Do you want to see them now?”

Freddie nodded, wrapping the towel around his waist.

Jim excused himself, to swing open the door to three expectant faces.

Jim beamed.

“Freddie is home, he’s safe and ....not quite well. He’s just out of the shower, and will be out in a moment. Although he is yelling at me to cut his hair off, has he mentioned a change of image at all to any of you?”

Brian raised an eyebrow.

Roger shook his head.

Deaky drew his eyebrows together.

“I did mention that he needs to discuss it with you blokes coz he’ll be the odd one out, but he’s adamant” said Jim, desperate for some assistance in the matter.

“Only Freddie damn Mercury could be kidnapped, and his first concern be his hair” said Deaky tutting.

Jim held the door open. “Come in lads, he’ll be out in a minute. Maybe you can talk him out of it.”

The boys sat on the sofa, jittering knees, ankles crossed then uncrossed, all keen to see Freddie with their own eyes.

Jim became worried when Freddie didn’t appear after a few moments, and made his way back into the bathroom with Roger in tow.

Freddie was sitting under a stream of scalding hot water.

Steam was rising from his raw skin.

There were clumps of black hair around his feet, the offending scissors in one hand, and his toothbrush in the other.


	31. Encounters: Shooting Star - Bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Jim become reacquainted as they exchange stories of their time apart. Jim is sorry, and feels responsible for Freddie being kidnapped.   
Freddie just wants reassurance of a different kind 😊   
But why is everything so funny?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry lovies that it has taken me sooooooooo long to upload the latest chapter.   
Did you miss our boys?   
I’ve had to pack four weeks’ work into two with the upcoming Christmas holiday period, and then was asked to go to London on business – I didn’t even get to see the city – just the inside of a board room! Rolls eyes.  
Anyway, I hope you like this. It’s a bit of a ramble, but our boys are re-connecting, and Freddie well, he’s not quite himself….

Jim yelped and switched off the shower, cursing his own stupidity for leaving Freddie alone.

He should have known better.

Freddie did not show his emotions lightly. If he appeared to be upset, he was surely tormented inside.

Jim picked up a thick fluffy towel from the shelf, and carefully taking the scissors and toothbrush, enveloped Freddie into a warm toweling hug.

“I can’t get clean, and I can’t get warm” Freddie whispered to Jim, teeth chattering in his ear.

Roger hovered in the doorway, paled faced and opened mouthed, staring at the thick black hair in the shower tray.

He had never seen his best friend so distressed, he didn’t have the first idea how to help him.

The damage was done.

Freddie’s distress had the opposite effect on Jim - it galvanised him into action.

“Roger! Please go down to concierge. I want a hairdresser right now, more blankets – decent ones, king size – and some good cough syrup. If they dare to quibble about the hour, remind them that Freddie was snatched from this hotel!” Jim barked.

Roger’s jaw dropped further, his feet rooted to the spot.

He had never seen Jim so authoritative.

Freddie was standing in exactly the same spot; water pooling around his feet from the shower, shivering despite the enormous towel.

Jim pulled Freddie tightly into his arms, his voice softening. “I’ve got a poorly baby to bath.”

*********************

Jim lit another candle, and placed it on the shelf.

Pushing his cigarette lighter into his pocket, he drew the blind, and locked the door.

Jim knew those actions would make Freddie feel safe, but he also had a selfish motive. He wanted Freddie all to himself for a while.

Jamie had taken Freddie away.

He had broken the bond that was between them, and they both had to live with the fear.

Jim also had to live with the shame that his own actions had put the man he loved in mortal danger.

Only Freddie’s head, and an enormous pair of brown eyes were visible above the bubbles where Jim had forgotten to stop pouring.

The bathroom was filled with steam, and although unable to fit into the small bath with Freddie, the room was so warm that Jim was stripped down to just his jeans.

Freddie laid his head back with a quiet moan, and closed his eyes. Relaxing for the first time in days.

He and Jim hadn’t spoken about their argument, or how they felt about one another, but something had changed.

Something had deepened, and matured, and Freddie felt oddly serene.

“This is a nice bathroom” Freddie said quietly. His mind relocating in snatches - as much as his delicate psyche would allow - to the bathroom in Jamie’s apartment.

Jim padded over to him, and lying a towel on the floor, he sat down beside Freddie, and peered over the rim of the bath.

Gentle eyes softening with the steam.

“Yes, it’s comfortable” Jim smiled, reaching out a hand to tuck a butchered lock of Freddie’s hair behind his ear. “It would be nicer if I could get in the bath with you, but you’re comfortable and warm, and that’s all that matters sweetheart.”

Jim was suddenly on his feet again, unable to rest until he knew that Freddie felt better.

He folded a towel, and lifting Freddie’s sore head, carefully placed it behind him.

Jim crouched on his knees again, this time swirling his hand in the water to check it was still warm enough.

“Are you really ok darling?” Jim whispered. “Please tell me the truth. Are you really unharmed? I’m scared to touch you.”

Freddie reached a hand above the water, and clasped Jim’s.

“I’m fine darling. He didn’t hurt me” Freddie reassured him. “It-it was odd” he stammered. “I don’t think I know what Jamie really wanted in the end.”

“Where were you darling? We were frantic!” Jim’s voice trembled with emotion. “This…” he kissed Freddie’s hand “…is more than I’ve dared to pray for. You, home, safe, and completely unhurt…save for the hair” Jim ruffled Freddie’s hair affectionately.

“I don’t know.” Freddie wrinkled his nose, and shook his head.

“I wasn’t far away. We walked for a little while, and I was tired and cold, but I was so drunk!”

Freddie shook his head again as though trying to find the answer.

“I didn’t know where I was, but Jamie said you’d sent him to get me, to bring me to you – at a party – and I thought maybe if you’d sent Jamie to get me then you had forgiven me, but I still didn’t know what I’d done” Freddie continued in a rush.

“…but then he took me to this horrible apartment that was cold and desperately needed love, and I didn’t want to go in … honestly Jim I didn’t …” Freddie shook his head vigorously, eyes wide as though still trying to convince Jim of his innocence. “…but Jamie said he needed to change his shoes before the party, and he would only be a minute, but the moment I stepped into the room, he pushed me over” Freddie examined his wrists as though expecting the pain to still be there “…and it was dark and I couldn’t see, and when he put the light on, he’d already locked me in, and…” Freddie covered his eyes with his hands.

“Hey!” Jim soothed, wrapping his arms around Freddie. “Ssshh” he cooed, smoothing Freddie’s choppy hair. “A little at a time sweetheart. It’s over now, and you’re safe.”

“After the police came…” Freddie continued, “…they put me in a van with no windows. They covered my head - which was really kind of nice - but I could hear Jamie crying all the way” Freddie finished seeming to calm a little.

Jim encouraged Freddie to lay his head down onto his arm. He stroked his hair, and face to calm him, and littered tender kisses along his hairline.

“You must have been terrified baby” Jim whispered between kisses.

“We all were” he continued. “We didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go out looking for you, but I didn’t have a clue where to start - and I didn’t want to leave here in case you came home. Brian, Roger, Deaky and John were amazing Freddie. They’re so smart, and they love you so much!” Jim shook his head in awe. “I’m ashamed to say I fell apart without you.”

Freddie sat upright suddenly, causing the water to splash over the sides of the bath onto the floor.

“Roger!!” he cried with alarm. “Jamie said his boss had kidnapped Roger!” Freddie attempted to clamber out of the bath, before Jim grabbed his shoulders.

“Sweetheart, Roger was just here” he said with concern. “Didn’t you see him? He’s gone downstairs to get you some nice blankets and some medicine for that cough.”

Freddie sat back into the bath and started to cough as though he had been reminded he had one.

“Sweetheart, I’m very concerned about that bump on your head. You are very confused. How long ago did you bump your head?” Jim inquired.

Freddie caught his lip between his teeth. “I don’t know. It was dark.”

“Where did you sleep baby?” said Jim, phrasing his concern about Freddie having lost consciousness another way.

“I didn’t sleep….I don’t think. Jamie told me to get in the bed, but I wouldn’t” Freddie raised his chin in defiance.

“The police said you were tied to a chair when they found you” Jim carefully brushed the bubbles from Freddie’s chest to take a look. “It is a little red there” he said placing tender kisses.

“I struggled pretty hard Jim. Jamie didn’t make those marks, I did. Jamie fell asleep and I tried to get out” Freddie uttered sadly.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m so sorry” Jim whispered, trailing kisses along Freddie’s arm.

“I couldn’t get the look on your face out of my mind. And knowing I had done that to you…” Jim faltered. “Brian thought maybe you had gone somewhere to cool off, maybe sneaked out before Jamie had got to you - I prayed you had- but we knew deep down that Jamie had taken you” Jim finished sadly.

“How did you know I was with Jamie?” Freddie asked cautiously, thinking of the illicit kisses he had shared with Joe.

“Jamie left two letters” Jim said carefully. “One to divide us….” Jim squeezed him “I’m so sorry baby! He left another note - under Brian and Roger’s door – a kidnap notice” Jim said, tears forming in his eyes as the memories of the frustration and helplessness overwhelmed him.

“Did the kidnap note say what Jamie wanted?” asked Freddie curiously.

Jim shook his head. “Just that he cared for you….” Jim stammered “…more than we did.”

Freddie shivered.

“Not possible baby – not true!” Jim took a deep breathe “One thing I promise you darling for the rest of my days – there will be no more yelling. For reasons unknown to me you were scared of me that day, but I promise you will never have reason to be again. I can’t promise we’ll always see eye to eye, but just talking from now on ok?”

There was silence for a few moments.

“Is there anything you want to tell me sweetheart?” Jim asked cautiously, nervous of the answer. “Anything that ….happened?”

Freddie’s head whipped round in his attempt to twist towards Jim “I didn’t cheat with him!”

“I know you didn’t cheat baby” Jim said calmly, trying to quell the flow of guilt that was rising up in him. “I’m so sorry Freddie, for not trusting you, for not even giving you a chance to explain. You must have been so hurt and confused.”

“I thought…I thought you didn’t want me anymore” Freddie stammered. “I assumed you had gone home – to Ireland. That’s what Jamie said. He said….that you were being held hostage too, and I was so scared for you, but then he changed his story and said you’d gone home” Freddie said with quiet certainty.

Jim was horrified.

Had Freddie really thought that he would just leave - after everything they had been to one another?

Had he spent the whole night feeling completely alone, like no one cared enough to look for him?

How would Jim ever get through to him just how much he was loved?

“If you think I would just leave, not knowing you were safe, then we need to have a longer talk than I originally feared. I was hurt Freddie, but it never crossed my mind to leave you! I just wanted some answers. I would follow you to the end of the earth – you must know that?” Jim implored. “I love you! Every little part of you. Even the bits you try to hide - especially the bits you try to hide.”

There was a timid knock on the door.

Freddie stiffened.

“That sounds like Jamie’s knock” he whispered fearfully.

“Jamie is in prison darling” Jim squeezed him. “Is that what happened? Did he come and get you from this room – after I left you on your own?”

Freddie nodded.

“You won’t be alone again baby – I promise.”

The knock came a little firmer.

Jim got to his feet with a smile, and kissed Freddie’s forehead. “You stay here. I will see who it is.”

*************************

Jim cautiously pulled back the door.

He was greeted by a tower of linen, topped with a mop of curly hair.

“Brian? Is that you?” Jim said with a chuckle, taking the top few blankets from him.

“Thanks mate” Brian whispered as though afraid to speak too loudly.

His eyes darted over Jim’s shoulder as though anxious to see Freddie, but fearful to ask.

“Is Freddie ok?” Brian asked eventually, when he couldn’t catch a glimpse of him.

Jim nodded. “He’s in the bath thawing out.”

“What about his….” Brian gestured towards his hair.

Jim shook his head sadly.

“So….” Brian pointed to the pile of linen, changing the subject. “…those are our blankets. You have ours, we’ll order more, it’ll be quicker.”

He pulled a bottle of medicine and a plastic spoon from his pocket, handing it to Jim. “Cough syrup” he announced.

“The hairdresser will be a couple of hours – seemingly that’s not an odd request in New York City.”

Brian crouched, and then popped up again presenting Jim with a shot of amber liquid in a small glass. “This my friend is for your nerves – it’s Irish.”

Jim smiled, taking the glass from Brian and downing the shot in one go.

“Much appreciated” Jim grimaced, returning the glass to Brian, who’s raised eyebrows were on the ceiling.

Brian crouched again, and this time presented a steaming mug. “Roger said Freddie has a recent thing for hot milk and honey? Weird - but this is for him. It’s very hot, be careful.”

Jim took the steaming mug with a broad smile.

Brian leant on the door frame, and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Now that I’ve buttered you up – I have a confession to make – I’ve called the doctor for Freddie.”

Brian raised a hand in preparation for the objection that didn’t come.

“Roger is shitting himself, he’s never seen Freddie like that before. That’s why I’m here. I sent Roger to the bar. He’s scared for Freddie. You have to admit Jim, he’s had a lot go wrong for him this year – injuries, illnesses and just plain shit luck.”

Brian paused when he realised Jim wasn’t speaking.

“Are you alright Jim?” Brian asked alarmed, when he noticed tears forming in his friends’ eyes.

“Yes, Brian. I just appreciate the support that’s all” Jim said humbly. “You blokes have every reason to hate me for what I have done to Freddie.”

Brian pulled Jim into a hug, the two men slapping each other’s backs.

“I’m not crying Brian” Jim hastened to add. “It was the drink…honest!”

Brian laughed, but Jim couldn’t quite bring himself to be amused as he waved Brian off, promising him regular Freddie updates.

Jim closed the door and leant back against it for a moment, drying his eyes on his sleeve.

He couldn’t let Freddie see him like that – not when he had to be the one who persuaded him to see the doctor.

Jim plastered on a smile and picked up the mug, wondering just how much of the showman he was catching from his beloved rock star.

*********************

Jim pushed on the bathroom door softly.

“Look what Brian brought for you honey” the smile in Jim’s voice got Freddie’s immediate attention.

He sat up onto his knees in the bath water.

“Something for me?” Freddie asked excitedly. “What’s in the cup?” he said peering into it as Jim passed it down to him.

“Milk and honey. But first, you have to take some of this medicine.” Jim held up the bottle, twisting off the cap, pouring some onto the spoon and holding it up to Freddie’s mouth like he was a small child.

Freddie sucked the medicine off the spoon suggestively with an unexpected twinkle in his tired eyes.

“Am I too poorly for sex?” he asked flirtatiously.

Jim laughed out loud.

The feeling was strange. Heady and displaced.

Freddie wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck swaying prettily.

Jim couldn’t help himself, he felt the flush of desire as he wrapped his arms around Freddie, pressing his body as close as possible.

Pushing his lips hard against Freddie’s with passion.

Familiar, hot, incensed.

Jim squeezed harder as his tongue met Freddie’s. It was a welcome dance of rediscovery.

Freddie squeaked painfully, and brought Jim back to reality.

“What’s the matter little one?” he cooed.

Freddie wrinkled his nose “Stomach hurts.”

“Well in that case you are too poorly for sex, and you’ll not be too angry with Brian for calling the doctor” said Jim a little fearfully.

He counted the silent beats, waiting for Freddie to protest.

Unexpectedly Freddie simply rolled his eyes, and said “Urgh….that’s so Brian!”

“I agree with him” confirmed Jim bravely, pressing his forehead to Freddie’s, “…and so does Roger. If I’m in trouble we are all going down together” he laughed.

Freddie raised dripping wet arms. “Lift me out kind sir.”

Jim chuckled, and with an hand under each arm he swung Freddie out of the bath onto his feet.

Jim grabbed a towel, wrapped it around Freddie and affectionately wiped droplets of water from his cheek with the corner of the towel.

“Just you wait here…” Jim opened a cupboard and with a muffled voice cried “Aah ha, I’ve got it.” Jim pulled out a crisp white toweling robe.

Freddie chewed his nail, scrutinising the unfamiliar comfort.

“Can I have my blanket instead?” he asked sweetly, swaying on the spot.

“Of course” Jim smiled lovingly “but first we need to dry you.”

*********************

Freddie stifled a smile.

Choosing instead to hide his grin behind his hand, licking some imaginary milk from his thumb, as he watched Jim scurry back into the bathroom.

He flapped the hem of the enormous bathrobe over his leg and examined the tie. It was in fact immaculately clean as Jim had assured him.

There were merits to being too tired to move. He no longer cared that the room was a mess, or that the doctor was coming.

Freddie’s stomach growled, and for a moment he worried that he might vomit again, but it passed.

Freddie was refreshed to see that Jim was more nervous about the doctor's impending visit than he was.

He smiled again. A small giggle escaped this time and Jim caught him, peering back around the bathroom door, narrowing his eyes.

“What are you laughing at?” Jim said with a smile.

With wide innocent eyes, Freddie shook his head and said “Nothing darling” burying his face into his mug.

Jim crawled slowly from the foot of the bed until he was eye to eye with Freddie.

“There’s definitely something” he said with amusement “what?”

Freddie blushed at being caught.

“You!” he said with a giggle. “You’re flapping more than I do because the doctor is coming.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, and took the empty mug from Freddie’s hands.

He hadn’t expected Freddie to be so light-hearted after his terrifying ordeal, but Jim was relieved that he did appear to be unusually calm.

“I know you like our room to be tidy and clean, and you also like to make a good impression. I want to care for your every need” said Jim with intensity, never taking his eyes from Freddie’s.

Freddie flushed. He wanted so badly to be close to Jim again. To feel his body close, to kiss his lips, to show him just how much he did love him, no matter what he might have thought.

“My EVERY need?” he asked, eyelashes fluttering, before looking down at his lap sadly. “…but you said I was too needy.”

Freddie watched Jim’s face closely.

The way he swallowed hard at Freddie’s comment.

The way his cheeks flushed with humiliation, although he appeared to pale.

The way he licked his lips as though finding it difficult to find the words.

Instead Jim grabbed Freddie’s hand and pulled it down to the zipper of his jeans where there was the beginnings of a hard on.

“That’s what I feel for you Freddie. Just being close to you. It never dulls and it never fade” Jim said with comical seriousness.

Freddie was surprised to feel himself blushing, and was relieved when Jim continued.

“I didn’t mean any of what I said Freddie – not really” he began quietly. “You’re a mystery to me sweetheart. I never know what you’re feeling. I hurt so badly when I got Jamie’s letter – I wanted you to hurt too. I wanted to know that you felt the same way as I did, even if that was God awful.” Jim tucked Freddie’s hair behind his ear. “I regretted it the minute I saw the pain written all over your face, I was mortified. I’m so sorry Freddie” he said in earnest.

Freddie felt as though Jim was looking into his soul.

There was no avoiding his eyes.

No dodging the subject.

No offering up of weak excuses for his behaviour.

For the first time in Freddie’s life, he sensed a lover was being completely honest with him.

Freddie wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck, and touched Jim’s lips tenderly with his own.

“I love you” he whispered gently.

Jim gasped. Blood rushing to his face “You do? You really love me? You don’t just feel pressured because of what I said?”

Freddie nodded in earnest. “I love you Jim Hutton. But you can’t shout at me again!” he scolded, a pout forming on his lips.

Jim squeezed Freddie tightly “My darling I promise I will never deliberately hurt you ever again. I was being stupid, and insecure, and I nearly lost you, and I couldn’t bear it!”

Freddie caught his bottom lip between his teeth, as clever fingers unbuttoned Jim’s jeans with a snap.

“You are a cheeky little kitten” said Jim, tickling Freddie’s stomach.

Freddie squeaked and clamped a hand over his mouth, as a wave of nausea caught him unexpectedly.

Jim’s eyes never left Freddie’s as concern replaced passion.

“You really are too poorly for sex baby” Jim said, pressing the back of his hand to Freddie’s forehead.

Jim shuffled onto his bottom, looping Freddie’s legs over his own, and snuggling him against the warmth of his body.

“Will you make me a promise sweetheart?”

Freddie seemed distracted by the toweling on his robe. Winding his fingers through it, then smoothing it flat.

“Honey?” Jim prompted.

Freddie laughed out loud. “You haven’t told me what I’m agreeing to yet!”

Jim smiled, relieved that he still had Freddie’s attention.

“Will you tell the doctor everything? Everything that happened? Everything that hurts? Everything that feels wrong? I promise to stay beside you the whole time – unless you would prefer some privacy of course….” Jim faltered.

Freddie suddenly looked up at Jim. “He didn’t rape me Jim” he said, with an uncharacteristic bluntness that made Jim stutter with relief.

“I-I’m very relieved about that sweetheart – and thank you for being honest – but I meant absolutely everything. Can you do that for me please?” Jim begged.

Freddie nodded, nuzzling his cheek affectionately against Jim’s.

“I promise I won’t leave you alone with him – unless you ask me to” Jim continued, expecting a little more resistance. “Where’s your razor baby?” Jim asked, the sharpness on his skin a distraction.

Freddie stopped nuzzling abruptly.

“In my wash bag” he lied.

“It’s not darling. I have unpacked your wash bag. Can you remember when you last used it?”

Freddie shook his head, reluctant to implicate himself, but Jim wasn’t to be put off.

“Was it yesterday?” he pressed.

Freddie shook his head again.

“Are you sure? You were soft as a baby when I kissed you goodbye yesterday morning?” A wave of sadness crashed over him as he realised it may have been his last kiss goodbye.

“Used yours” Freddie admitted with a blush. “I like using your things” he confessed. Something Freddie knew Jim would find so adorable that he would stop his line of questioning.

“Perhaps we left it in Philly” Jim suggested.

Freddie nodded.

Suddenly Jim sat upright. “Would you like to show me your costumes? I hung them in the wardrobe for you.”

Freddie shook his head, and worked Jim’s zip down with a shy smile. “I want you.”

Freddie’s pursuit of pleasure was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Jim groaned loudly.

*********************

The doctor was refreshingly young.

He swept into the room with the ease of a well-known friend.

He had the air of someone who had qualified easily the first time around.

The kind of man who climbed Mount Kilimanjaro for his 21st birthday celebration.

The doctor wasn’t phased by Jim’s presence, his lack of shirt, or his fussing over Freddie.

Freddie seemed to relax in his presence, inviting him in, and offering him a cup of tea.

Jim was torn between amusement and concern as he watched Freddie attempt to bite the finger that the doctor held up to him to check his vision.

Freddie had a lively sense of humour, but under the circumstances it was a little misplaced.

Jim was grateful that Freddie did in fact appear to be unharmed, but his behaviour was unnerving. It was a though he was drunk; giggly and uncoordinated.

The pout on his lips was adorable, when the doctor pressed the cold stethoscope to his chest, only to turn to concern when Freddie couldn’t stop coughing long enough for the doctor to get a clear reading.

The doctor wrote out a prescription and attempted to hand it to Freddie, who seemed unable to grasp it.

“Doctor, I’m concerned” Jim had said aloud before he had even formulated the questions in his own mind. “What’s wrong with Freddie?”

“Freddie is functioning purely on the limbic system Jim. The reptilian brain - to put it in a way you may have heard of.”

Jim shook his head.

“It is believed to be the oldest part of the human brain. It’s controlling Freddie’s heartbeat, his core temperature, his breathing, his balance, but the higher functioning brain – language, emotion, judgement – are all dis-enabled while Freddie restores vital balance to his energy levels, nutrition, and serotonin. To put it in layman’s terms Freddie is too tired and too hungry to function normally. It may have been called hysteria or delirium in the dark ages. Shortly he may be prone to bursts of laughter, or feelings of euphoria. It’s not good news Jim, but it’s understandable under the circumstances. Freddie can’t remember the last time he ate or slept.”

Jim watched Freddie smile with curiosity as he rifled through the doctor’s bag.

“He needs to be kept warm. His body cannot do it for him in his current state. He needs to eat, slowly, carefully. If he eats too much of the wrong types of food he will simply vomit and be back to the beginning. Eggs, toast, boiled rice, very small portions and often, but first he needs to sleep. His body might simply reject food anyway while he is this tired.”

“Freddie likes milk and honey – will that help?” Jim offered.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, very good, that will do for tonight, but milk is for infants, it won’t sustain an adult male for very long, so it’s important that he starts to eat by morning. He’s underweight as it is.”

The doctor handed the prescription to Jim for safe keeping.

“This is for Freddie’s cough, but it’s important that he begin eating first. If he takes this now, he’ll vomit. His body can’t fight infection in this compromised state. Oh, and no alcohol while he is on the medication.”

“That’s gonna cut into my social life doctor!” Freddie whined with a pout.

The doctor couldn’t help but smile, while gently uncurling Freddie’s fingers from the peak flow meter.

“Get some sleep, and keep him warm” were the doctor’s last instructions as Jim showed him out.

“See, that wasn’t so bad darling was it?” Jim said with a smile.

Freddie giggled, and held his arms out to Jim.

Jim grabbed Freddie’s blanket from the radiator top, and wrestled him squealing and laughing into bed.


	32. Encounters: Shooting Star - Lovie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Jim receive a late night guest in the shape of a blustery hairdresser, who gives the boys a very welcome giggle.  
Jim finally understands just how much he means to Freddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies, I make no apologies for what you are about to read.   
We are all in need of some humour, and uber cuteness after the last few chapters. I hope it makes you laugh and cry when reading, as much as I did when writing it. Enjoy!  
And yes….Jim IS reading to Freddie at the beginning😊

“….much has been said about the hottest new export from the United Kingdom – most of it far from complimentary – but love them, or hate them Queen’s front man will not be ignored.”

Jim carefully folded the newspaper, and manoeuvred it silently onto the mattress beside him, taking great pains not to rustle it, or move an inch.

He cast a careful glance down to his chest.

The sore fingers that had been chattering there had finally stilled.

Long eyelashes were fanned on high cheekbones.

The incessant coughing had turned into a wheeze through open rosebud lips.

Despite his exhaustion, Freddie had remained alert. Refusing to give in to sleep as every chime of the clock, every footfall in the corridor, and squeak of the plumbing raised his fear level.

Jim had assured Freddie many times that the door was locked.

That Jamie was in prison.

That the boys were not far away.

That Jim would stay awake while he rested.

That the kidnapping of a rock star meant that the hotel would now go to greater lengths to ensure the security of their high profile guests.

There was a hurried knock on the door.

Freddie leapt up out of the bed as though a gun had been fired.

Jim cursed.

It was like Piccadilly Circus in here tonight, and he needed Freddie to rest.

Jim leapt out of the bed, gripping tightly to the cabinet as the blood rushed to his head from standing too quickly.

He seized Freddie’s blanket and wrapped it around him, ushering him onto the stool beside the dressing table to gather his breath.

Silently Jim squeezed Freddie’s hands in his, trying desperately to instill calm.

He ran a hand through Freddie’s hair, and pressed his lips tenderly to his forehead.

“I’ll see who it is sweetheart. You stay there.”

Jim padded softly over to the door, as the hurried knock came again.

“It’s me, Doreen, your late night hairdressing service lovie.” A voice called through the heavy wooden door.

Despite himself, Jim couldn’t help but smile.

A strong Yorkshire accent could be spotted in most environments - much like his own Irish one - but it definitely stood out in America.

Jim opened the door.

Freddie was still sitting at the dressing table, wrapped in his blanket, pulling his fingers awkwardly through what was left of his beautiful hair.

He was beginning to regret his rash decision.

Doreen peered around Jim. “I’m looking for Freddie Mer…oh there you are lovie.”

Completely ignoring Jim, Doreen let herself in and shuffled over to Freddie, clutching a bulging carpet bag.

Doreen touched the trailing fabric of Freddie’s blanket, holding it up to the lamp light.

“My, what a pretty Persian rug” she exclaimed loudly.

Freddie giggled, and Jim felt his stress ease immediately.

“It’s my blanket from Africa” Freddie said as though Doreen was stupid, but also as though he had known her all his life.

Doreen scraped Freddie’s hair back from his face. “Now, what have you done to yourself lovie? Fancied a change did you?”

Jim cleared his throat, hoping his completely ignored presence didn’t startle the woman.

“Freddie’s had a rough couple of days, and his hair has unfortunately taken the brunt” he attempted to explain.

“Yes, I know all about Freddie being taken hostage. It was on the evening news. Quite the celebrity aren’t you lovie….” She turned to Jim “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Freddie giggled.

Jim couldn’t believe the rudeness of the woman, but her presence pleased him. She made Freddie laugh, and that was all that mattered.

Jim stuck out his hand, but Freddie beat him to it.

“This is my Jim.” Freddie didn’t take his eyes from Jim’s. To Doreen it was a statement, to Jim it was a question.

“And how is he yours lovie?” the fussy woman asked scowling at Jim from under close knit eyebrows.

Jim snatched back his hand in fear. “I’m Jim Hutton, Freddie’s personal assistant.”

“Right…couldn’t get us a cuppa could you lovely? Thick and strong, builders tea if you would, strong enough to stand a spoon in it. Three sugars thanks.” With that Doreen dismissed the servant, and turned her attention back to Freddie’s hair.

“Now, you’ve not done too much damage lovie. You’ve left a bit of length, which gives me something to work with. You’re a rock star, you don’t want to look like a choir boy now do you!”

Freddie giggled.

Doreen immediately set to work repairing Freddie’s hair.

Jim returned with one mug of thick brown tea for the lady, and a bone china cup of Earl Grey for Freddie. Jim had also painstakingly broken a biscuit into quarters, and arranged them around Freddie’s saucer.

“Please, for me” he said, gently placing on the cup and saucer beside Freddie.

Doreen took a long slurp of her tea, and exhaled loudly, snacking her lips. “Thank you muchly lovie. I appreciate it. Was just about to get into bed when I was summoned.”

“Yeah, sorry about that” said Jim, suddenly feeling as though he had acted inappropriately. “I didn’t know what to do when Freddie cut his hair – especially with him being so high profile and….”

“Oh, it’s not uncommon lovie” Doreen interrupted. “When somebody goes through an ordeal like young Freddie here, they don’t want to be that person any more. Sick people do it too. They want to be someone different to who they were before the kidnapping, someone less likely to be taken again.” Doreen turned to Freddie with a raised eyebrow, “Isn’t that right lovie?”

What Doreen said made a lot of sense.

“He said …” Freddie stammered shyly, clearing his throat in an effort to speak more clearly. “Jamie said he liked my hair. He said he had a doll just like me - with midnight black hair. I’m not a doll, I’m a person!” Freddie said quietly, as though he wasn’t quite sure that was true.

Jim felt his heart splinter.

Yet again Freddie had been victimised because he was beautiful.

“I didn’t want it long anymore, but now that it’s gone, I’m not sure…” Freddie said twisting awkwardly in his seat, trying to see the back of his head.

Jim was thrilled that Freddie was talking to someone. He wished it could have been him, but anyone was a big step.

Jim also wasn’t used to seeing Freddie in the presence of women.

There were so few around him.

Freddie had spoken about a number of women in his art school circle who he appeared to adore - especially one named Mary - but Jim had never met any of them.

Perhaps Freddie needed his Mum tonight.

For all his success, and life experience, Jim sometimes forgot that Freddie was just twenty-one years old.

Despite seeming much younger at times– perhaps seven or eight in his playful side - Freddie was such an old soul. He appeared to have seen so much pain, and very little in the way of comfort.

Freddie’s relationship with his parents seemed almost juvenile. Like a teen rebelling against their wishes for him.

Jim had seen how deeply Freddie’s mother loved her son when he had met them for tea, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

The father was something of a mystery, and Freddie was deeply opposed to Jim meeting him.

Still, the parent – child relationship was not one for Jim to judge.

How well could they truly know their son having left him in a school thousands of miles away for nine years?!

Jim thought for a moment about his own family.

Perhaps if he saved a bit of money from the tour he could fly his Mum over for a few days before Christmas.

Jim’s Mum adored Freddie, and she had lost her chance to mother Jim years ago, it might be good for them both.

Doreen tapped Freddie’s hand lightly with her brush.

“Don’t faff with it tonight lovie. You’ve got a double crown, and your hair has a wavy texture. Now that the weight has gone, it will curl nicely. Look again in the morning, the length needs to relax…and so do you lovie.” With that Doreen started to gather her belongings.

“Oh, just a minute lovie” she said rifling though her bag. Doreen pulled out a pot of lip balm, poking her finger in, she splodged a large amount on Freddie’s lips.

She leant back to examine her handiwork. “There you go lovie.”

Freddie nodded. “Thank you Mrs…”

“Doreen lovie….just Doreen, and it’s an honour to meet a bona fide, in the flesh rock star. I just loved Crocodile Rock.”

Freddie and Jim stared at one another, and both mouthed “Crocodile Rock” before dissolving into uncontrolled giggles.

With a last loud slurp of tea Doreen headed towards the door.

Unexpectedly Freddie ran to her, and enveloped her in an enormous hug.

Doreen flustered “Awwww that’s nice lovie” before letting herself out.

Freddie and Jim’s howls of laughter could be heard all the way down the corridor

************************

Swaddled.

Freddie was wrapped tightly under numerous blankets. His own wrapped tenderly over the back of his head.

Jim’s heartbeat was loud in his ear. Solid and sure, but distant, and Freddie felt as though he was floating.

He felt euphoric.

Freddie sensed rather than felt loving touches to his face, his lips, his hair. Soft lips kissed his fingertips as he bathed in bliss.

His stomach didn’t hurt anymore. Neither did his head. He was no longer cold.

Freddie thought his eyes were open, but he wasn’t sure.

He glanced upwards until he could see Jim’s face, bathed in soft light. Jim’s lips were moving, but the words were not reaching his ears.

Freddie recognised the picture that Jim held up to him – the kitten he had drawn when he had been at Jamie’s apartment.

His kitten.

Freddie smiled, and reached out to grasp the paper, but his hand didn’t seem to coordinate with his brain, and he kept missing the page.

“Our baby” he heard himself mutter.

Jim was smiling.

*********************

Jim had left the lamps on that evening allowing the room to be bathed in a soft relaxing light, restraining the darkness that might incite nightmares.

He listened with sorrow to Freddie’s laboured breathing as an infection was obviously taking hold in his chest, and he finally allowed the feelings to flow through him.

Gratitude.

Relief.

Fortune.

Blessed.

Renewed.

Jim was not letting Freddie out of his sight ever again.

He squeezed Freddie closer as he started to cough – despite the cough syrup he was doped up on - and the second cup of hot milk and honey that Freddie had shyly requested before being coaxed back into bed.

Jim knew how tired Freddie was, but he was so reluctant to let him go.

To let him fall asleep into an abyss of nightmares that would more than likely capture him.

Freddie was too tired to be fearful, so Jim did the worrying for him.

“You’ll be back on stage soon sweetheart. Are you excited?” Jim asked.

Freddie nodded.

Jim held his breath for a moment or two before asking gently “What was it like darling? The place you were held? What was Jamie really like?”

Jim didn’t expect an answer, he was frantically trying to keep Freddie awake, and so was astonished when Freddie did start to talk.

“Jamie is … like me. He has nightmares. I was trying to help him, but I couldn’t reach him. I hoped a song would help…” mumbled Freddie, almost incoherent in his exhaustion.

Jim was dumbfounded at how selfless this man could be. “You tried to help him?? Weren’t you scared for your own safety?”

“I……dunno….I….erm….yes, I think so. Jim…can I sleep now?” mumbled Freddie with a soft smile.

Jim smiled tenderly, he couldn’t keep him awake forever.

It was cruel.

There was just one last thing…

Jim held up the piece of paper that the officer had given him. The one that Freddie had drawn during his captivity.

“Who is this sweetheart? Did you have a cat when you were growing up?” Jim asked softly.

Freddie’s whole being seemed to light up. He reached out as though to touch the cat’s fur.

He mumbled something, but Jim couldn’t hear what he had said.

Jim took Freddie’s hand in his, kissing his knuckles, and holding firmly. “I’ve got you, alright?”

Freddie nodded “You’ve got me.”

Jim pressed a kiss to his forehead, before smiling at the drawing of the cat and placing it beside Freddie’s head on the pillow.

**************************

Jim’s eyes flew open. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

He quickly took stock of his surroundings.

He was at the hotel in New York.

He raised his head towards the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. It was 5.50am.

Jim sighed with relief and laid his head back on the pillow.

Freddie hadn’t moved all night.

His hand was still clasped in Jim’s.

His breathing now a lot more even.

His cheeks flushed from being cloaked in so many blankets.

His hair already forming into ringlets falling over his cheeks.

Jim urgently became aware of another need…..he needed to go to the toilet right now.

Jim closed his eyes and tried to recover sleep, hoping to put off the urge so he wouldn’t have to disturb Freddie, but it wouldn’t be delayed. He was going to pee himself if he didn’t go to the toilet right now.

Carefully Jim attempted to shuffle Freddie from the length of his body, and himself out from underneath him. Wrapping the blanket tighter, where his arm had been. Jim kissed Freddie’s hand and laid it carefully on the mattress.

To his relief Freddie didn’t stir.

Jim carefully backed away until he felt the edge of the bed, and he could swing his legs out. He crept on tiptoes across the carpeted room into the bathroom.

Jim sighed loudly as he finally relieved himself.

His own reflection staring back at him in the face mirror mounted on the wall.

He looked like shit.

He felt like shit.

His own face was flushed, probably from the blankets and holding a red hot Freddie to his chest for hours.

The world swayed in front of him for a moment, and Jim quickly turned on the tap and washed his hands, running his wrists under the cold water a little longer. Cupping his hands and drinking thirstily.

He needed to lie back down.

He pulled the chain to flush the toilet, and cursed as the ancient plumbing groaned at the stress. He waited for the overhead tank to stop filling before carefully pulling back the lock.

Freddie had rolled over, and now had his back to Jim, but his voice rang out clear and true.

“You can get out now” he said waspishly. “You don’t have to stay.”

Jim stopped in his tracks.

His heart dropping to his feet.

So Freddie did blame him for what had happened.

“Freddie?” Jim said softly “You can’t mean that. I love you.”

“I know you don’t really want to be here. I’m not worth it. Go on, get out or I’ll have you arrested” snipped Freddie.

“Arrested?” echoed Jim astonished.

Freddie didn’t even have Jamie arrested!

Jim took his own life into his hands by approaching the bed.

Climbing in gently, he wrapped his arms around Freddie’s waist and placed a kiss to his cheek.

“Please don’t break us apart darling” he whispered, a tear rolling down his face. “I love you, and I promise I will make it right.”

Freddie snored loudly.

Astonished Jim looked at his face.

His eyes were tightly closed.

Freddie was fast asleep.

His lips started to move again as though trying to talk, but nothing made sense.

Jim released the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and squeezed Freddie tightly with relief.

“You’re a very active little sleeper sweetheart. You never rest” he said tenderly, fussing with his pillows.

Another thought started to nag at Jim.

If he had been so desperate to go to the toilet, was Freddie? In his current state of both physical and mental health – would he even know?

The doctor had given Jim a list of care instructions before he had left.

He had been quite specific about the nutrition Freddie needed, how to keep him warm and hydrated, but nothing about bathroom duties.

Freddie could be so shy about these things, despite his unnerving level of comfort with nudity.

Jim squeezed him a little tighter.

“Freddie” he whispered.

His words fell on deaf ears.

Jim squeezed him again.

Freddie purred.

“Baby….are you with me?” Jim whispered.

“No. Sleeping” he mumbled.

“Do you need the toilet?” Jim asked carefully.

“No. Sleeping” Freddie mumbled again.

Jim smiled, this was going to be trickier than he had first thought.

Jim got back out of bed, and crouched beside Freddie, scattering kisses over his nose.

“I’m gonna take you to the bathroom ok?”

Suddenly Freddie was awake. “I’m not going to the bathroom while you’re there!” he shrieked, alarmed.

Jim laughed. “I will wait outside silly. I wouldn’t do that to you – not unless you needed me to.”

Jim started to unravel the blankets.

Freddie blinked sleepily up at Jim, but didn’t attempt to get out of bed. He pouted as the temperature dropped.

“Come on baby” Jim whispered as he scooped Freddie out of bed, who grabbed his blanket in protest.

“Tired!” he whimpered.

“I know honey. The sooner you go, the sooner you can go back to sleep. Is that a deal?” Jim bartered.

“Can I walk?” Freddie asked weakly.

Jim chuckled as he carefully pushed the bathroom door open with Freddie’s feet. “I don’t know sweetheart – can you?”

Jim carefully slid Freddie down onto his feet and switched on the light.

Jim cupped Freddie’s face gently. “Are you ok? Not too dizzy?” Freddie looked back at him stunned. “I’ll get you some water ok? Just call if you need me.”

Jim pulled the door closed behind him, leaving it slightly ajar.

“You’re a cruel lover” Freddie jibed, clearly in a sulk.

Jim smiled, as he switched on the tap in the kitchen and poured two glasses of water.

Freddie had no comprehension of how funny he was – even in sickness.

Jim drank the cold refreshing water in one gulp and was just placing his glass in the sink, when Freddie appeared beside him.

“I was bursting” he whispered.

Jim chuckled “Thought you might be.”

Jim handed Freddie the glass of water. “Drink this before you go back to sleep.”

Freddie frowned up at Jim, his lips in a pout. “Then I’ll need the toilet again!”

Jim laughed loudly. “Small sips. Don’t drink it quickly, you’ll get stomach ache.”

Jim turned Freddie around by his blanketed shoulders and walked him back to the bed, tucking him in, before climbing in beside him.

Jim was so tired.

He was surprised when instead of settling back down for sleep, Freddie reached for the drawing of the kitten.

“This is our baby” he said smiling, as though explaining something to a toddler.

“Our baby?” Jim asked quizzically. “We don’t have a cat.”

Jim’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped as a memory pushed its way to the forefront of his mind.

“You told Mum you wanted me to get you a kitten…for your birthday? Our baby? You want….a baby? With me? You want….to have a family with me?” Jim bumbled over the words, not able to get them out quickly enough.

Freddie nodded firmly, before settling back down for sleep.

“But you drew this while you were being held! When you were with Jamie, after I had been so horrible to you, you were thinking about baby kittens – our baby kittens?” Jim stuttered astonished.

Freddie nodded yawning. “Our baby kittens.”

Jim’s heart swelled so large in his chest, he suddenly couldn’t get breath.

The gorgeous boy, this wild untameable beauty wanted security; a family of fur babies - the only kind of family available to them – but he wanted it with Jim.

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t be dignified.

“Yes, yes, YES! I’ll give you a hundred babies” he shrieked, squeezing Freddie tightly.

Before Jim could stem the flow, large hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and he was sobbing loudly onto Freddie’s shoulder.

Alarmed, Freddie turned to Jim and wrapped his arms around him. “It’s ok darling, I’ve got you.”

Jim laughed through his tears. “Yes, sweetheart, you have got me.”

Wet with Jim’s tears, Freddie drifted off to sleep safely in his lovers arms.


	33. Encounters: Shooting Star - Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back together, and can’t wait to make the most of their time left in New York.  
Jim struggles to come to terms with the events of the last few days, and vows to make it up to Freddie – and he thinks he has found the perfect way…. 😊

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pour yourselves a glass of mulled wine, grab a mince pie, and enjoy lovies! I hope you are all having a very Merry Christmas, and I really hope this chapter makes you smile……

Jim heard himself shout out in horror as the cold waves crashed over his head in a deluge.

He flung his arms out desperately, floundering, trying to grab Freddie’s hand. Trying to stop him from going under.

Jim awoke to find himself patting frantically at the blankets of their bed.

He sat up wearily, exhausted from the effort of trying to keep Freddie and himself afloat, and realised that he was alone in bed.

Jim took a deep calming breath, and exhaled slowly, as he felt his heart beat returning to normal, and the adrenaline that was locked in his joints dissipate.

He could hear voices coming from the living area.

He looked over at the alarm clock, it was 5:50pm.

He had been asleep a full twelve hours.

Jim dragged his weary body out of the bed, and pulling a t-shirt over his head he made his way clumsily towards the voices.

He could see Freddie first, and he felt his heart melt a little.

Freddie was sitting cross legged on the arm chair, wearing Jim’s powder blue roll neck jumper, and a pair of Jim’s boxers which were down to his knees.

He appeared to have a plate balanced on one knee, with what looked like hand crafted candy on it.

Doreen had been correct in her estimation. Freddie’s hair was shiny, and falling in curls around his cheekbones. His cheeks were flushed warm, and he looked comfortable and serene.

Jim dragged his weary feet into the living area, and saluted the men sitting there.

His eyes not quite open yet, but he recognised Brian, Roger, Deaky, John, and Joe.

“Rough night Jim?” asked Roger, suddenly popping into Jim’s line of vision, but he wasn’t teasing. He had a new respect for Jim after seeing the way he had handled Freddie the night before.

Freddie was his best friend - he would have done anything for him - but Roger couldn’t have taken charge the way Jim did.

It was funny - and more than a little unsettling - but Roger had seen a completely different side to Freddie since Jim had entered their lives.

A more vulnerable side, and it unnerved him.

Freddie often seemed to change around his boyfriends, but this was different. It almost felt as though Freddie was initiating the change, and Jim was grappling to keep up - rather than the other way around.

Looking at him this afternoon, Roger suspected that Jim was barely holding on.

Jim caught his reflection in the mirror.

He looked terrible.

His own hair – which hadn’t come under attack – looked worse than Freddie’s.

He quickly ran his hands through it, wondering if he too was coming down with the cold.

He felt dreadful.

Jim excused himself and made his way into the bathroom.

He at least needed to brush his teeth.

The men were laughing when Jim returned to the living room. It was nice to hear after the stress of the last few days.

Deaky handed Jim a cup of strong coffee for which Jim thanked him profusely.

Jim perched on the arm of Freddie’s chair, and rested his hand on Freddie’s thigh. For that he earned a sincere bright smile.

Freddie leaned up on his elbow and pressed a sweet kiss to Jim’s cheek.

Jim saw that Freddie was wearing his woollen socks again too. He pulled the fabric with a smile “I’m not getting these back anytime soon am I?” he joked.

Freddie blushed, and shook his head.

“Brian tells me you want to get a proper security guard for Freddie. Don’t you want to do the job anymore?” John asked directly.

Freddie turned to him open mouthed, horrified. “You’re leaving me?” he cried.

Jim sunk from the chair arm into the chair, pulling Freddie onto his lap, and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“It’s not that I don’t want to do the job John – but let’s be honest I suck at it! I introduced Jamie to Freddie, brought him into our social circle, and I was the last to bloody know he’d been kidnapped. I thought you might have fired the first bullet.”

John held up a hand.

He wasn’t a fan of Jim’s self-effacing babble. Whether he knew it or not, Jim was bloody marvellous for Freddie. He was just the person Stan Jefferson had mentioned Freddie needed on tour with him.

It was good fortune that he also took care of the bedroom department.

“Jim, you’re being stupid as usual.” John never minced his words. “No one could have known Crossly was going to turn out to be a felon. The police dealt with it, Freddie is back where he belongs, and Crossley is in prison. Stop over reacting.”

“Actually…” started Freddie quietly. “I think Jamie is just…unwell. I don’t think he’s lucky to have good friends like…...” he tailed off.

Jim squeezed Freddie’s hand, and gave him a warm smile.

“Have we heard any more about Jamie?” he asked softly.

“Yes. The legal team got in touch this morning. Crossley is being held in Pittsburgh. Seemingly that’s where he’s from originally.”

Freddie dropped his gaze to his lap sadly.

“There’s no point looking like that Freddie, he needs to be locked up!” snapped Reid much like a concerned parent.

“What he did to you is not ok. He shouldn’t be free to do it to others, and I’ll make sure he can’t.”

John’s voice softened. “If it’s any consolation your pleas were taken into consideration, and the police managed to track down Crossley’s Aunt. Apparently she’s been looking for him since the parents took him away as a small boy. Father’s in jail, mother’s deceased – and the two things may be connected. The Aunt registered Crossley as a child at risk back in the 50’s. Abused every which way by his father. He’s gone by so many pseudonyms and moved around so much that even when he was convicted as a juvenile the police couldn’t track him. For some reason – God knows why – he saw a kindred spirit in our Freddie.”

Freddie gasped. His heart breaking for the boy, despite his own upheaval of an upbringing.

Appearing momentarily overcome, Freddie buried his face in Jim’s neck and smothered a sob.

“And while we’re on your weeping heart Freddie?” snapped Reid. “Why did I receive notification that the charges against Bill Reid have been dropped?”

It was everyone else’s turn to gasp.

Jim wasn’t even aware that Freddie had made a decision on the Bill Reid case.

He was so secretive.

Freddie smiled a little too brightly, and presented the plate on his knee to Jim. “Would you like to try one of these lovely….what do you call these Joe?”

“Petit fours” said Joe cautiously, taking in the expressions on the other men’s faces. Feeling as though he was the special guest in a haunted castle.

“Joe kindly made them by hand to welcome me back home. They’re so nice…try one” Freddie offered.

Jim gently pushed the plate back towards Freddie “No thank you darling, those look too sweet for me.”

He pulled Freddie a little closer and whispered in his ear, “Please don’t eat those right now darling. Remember what the doctor said, you’ll be poorly again. We need to start with something….softer.”

“Don’t change the fucking subject!” barked John. “Reid wants taking outside with a piece of two by four for what he did to you. Why did you let him off?” continued Reid, like the proverbial dog with a bone.

Freddie looked desperately from one man to the other, before finally turning to Jim for support. “I didn’t….I couldn’t…if I hadn’t….”

Jim shot John a filthy look and took Freddie’s hand warmly. “It’s alright Freddie” he soothed. “It’s alright. It was always your decision all along.” Jim sounded calmer than he felt.

The watch list of people around Freddie was getting longer with each day that past.

“And while we’re back on you…” John barked at Jim “…I’d be happy to put you through your badge Jim if you wanted a formal qualification, but you’re seeing this tour through. No arguments!”

Jim’s face lit up.

Just weeks ago he had desperately wanted to get out of the security game for ever, now he had the best job in the world. He’d screwed up, and was still being offered more.

“No!” shrieked Freddie, clasping onto Jim’s hand as though scared he would get away.

Everyone looked at Freddie, and he dropped his gaze to his lap.

“If Jim is qualified he can get another job” said Freddie quietly. “I don’t want him to get another job.”

Jim couldn’t help but chuckle as he squeezed Freddie tighter.

John rose from his seat and shook Jim’s hand. “Sort your man out Hutton, he’s awfully insecure.”

John’s expression softened as he gave Freddie a warm hug. Holding on a little longer than was polite.

“Pleased to see you back safe and sound Freddie.” John straightened up, and turned to the group. “You’re on tomorrow night, no messing, we need to make this right. Nobody is in perfect health, so help each other where you can. Roger fill in Freddie’s top notes. Brian, Roger…get along!” John winked.

“Just a minute John” said Jim, with a similar authority to that which Roger had heard the previous night. “Freddie’s not performing until he’s fit to.”

John physically staggered that anyone dared to contradict him. “I beg yours Hutton?” he demanded.

“Freddie is unable to eat solid food John, and he’s yet to start medication for a chest infection. He’s not well enough to perform” said Jim, matter of fact, meeting John’s sharp eyes with a confident gaze.

Jim felt a gentle hand on his arm, and looked down into Freddie’s nervous eyes.

No one – not even the great John Reid – was coming between Freddie and the care he needed. Jim had taken too many actions against his better judgement lately, and Freddie had paid the price.

“Sorry, why can’t he eat?” asked Joe softly, as though Freddie wasn’t there.

“He went too long without eating. His stomach has shrunk to the point that he vomits every time he tries to eat. The doctor gave me this…..” Jim reached for the doctor’s note on the coffee table “….list of foods he’s supposed to try.” Jim handed the note to Joe, giving a decidedly nervous looking Freddie a squeeze.

Joe perused the note.

“Do you mind if I copy this Jim?” Joe asked decisively. “If you don’t mind I’d like to take over as Freddie’s chef for the remainder of his stay? I can make this list interesting. It’ll be like feeding the elderly” Joe laughed raucously. “I’ll be a pain in the arse though. I’ll be up every couple of hours – literally - with a small portion of this and that. Two or three spoonful’s at first, then more and more. If it stays down he’ll be good for a short performance tomorrow night. If it doesn’t, he’ll need to be fucking hospitalised” Joe said with humour.

“No!” Freddie shrieked in horror.

Jim wove his fingers into Freddie’s curls, pulling his head comfortingly onto his chest.

“You’ll eat whatever Joe makes for you, won’t you darling?” Jim assured him softly.

Freddie nodded.

“Good. That’s settled” interjected John. “I’ll be in the bar in about an hour. I don’t want to see you there” John pointed at Freddie, “…but the rest of you are welcome to join me. Freddie, Jim get some rest. I’ll see you later lads.”

With that John swept dramatically towards the door before momentarily changing his mind. “Finelli, a word” he barked, ushering Joe out of the room ahead of him.

***********************

Roger pulled Freddie from Jim’s lap and enveloped him in a hug, to be joined by Brian and Deaky.

The boys swung around shrieking, heads together, arms woven around one another.

They were together again.

“We’ve never been so scared Freddie!” exclaimed Brian, as though only just exhaling the tension. “We couldn’t bear to think we would never see you again, but we didn’t know where to start looking for you either. Roger was just brilliant. It was him that remembered Jamie was staying on 14th Street.”

Roger grinned. “Thanks mate. So, I’m good for something? Does that mean you can tolerate me for a little while longer?”

“You’re not still fighting?!” whined Freddie.

“He gets on my tits!” stressed Brian, but this time with a smile.

“How does it feel to be home?” said Deaky.

Freddie wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck, and shuffled back onto his lap. “Warm” he said with a blush, nuzzling his nose into Jim’s neck.

Jim waited patiently for Freddie to show his face again before pushing an unexpected thermometer under his tongue.

Deaky looked at his watch. “We’ve got a whole 24 hours before our next show – the final show – what shall we do with ourselves?”

Freddie sat up excitedly, clapping his hands. “We should do something fun” he lisped around the thermometer.

Roger screwed up his face. “Fred I can’t face beer. I still feel like puking. Please don’t say we’re going out.”

“No. We don’t have to go out – out, but lets do something. We go home in just two whole days and we haven’t seen any of New York” Freddie whined.

Deaky frowned. “He’s right. We haven’t.”

The boys pondered for a moment. Snapping back into the room when the thermometer beeped alarmingly.

“We should let Fred chose what we do” suggested Brian.

“I think we should all do something together” Freddie said quietly. “I miss you. We haven’t done anything together for ages” he squeezed Jim’s hand, who was looking mystified by the thermometer.

“We should go see the Statue of Liberty!” Freddie cried excitedly. “I’ll take my camera.”

Freddie jumped off Jim’s knee and bounced across the room. He picked up his camera with a flourish and took a candid snapshot of Roger, giggling with a hand over his mouth as the print rolled out of the Polaroid.

“You’re not going anywhere Freddie. You still have a temperature” said Jim nervously, not used to being so bold as to tell his lover what to do.

Freddie pouted. The photo dropped sadly to his side.

“Let me have a look at that” he demanded, holding out his hand for the thermometer.

Roger quickly took the opportunity to snack the offending photograph while Freddie was distracted.

Freddie squinted at the display. “39? That’s nothing” he looked up at Jim expectedly, his eyes pleading

“That high sweetheart” Jim reached out and pulled Freddie back onto his lap. “Besides Joe will be along with your meal soon. You must be hungry?!”

Freddie smiled and batted his eyelashes. Readily accepting Jim’s affectionate embrace despite the negative words falling from his lips.

Freddie wrapped his leg over Jim’s thighs, and fluttered sweet kisses over his nose and eyelids. “I could work up an appetite” he preened.

The boys groaned, and Jim’s laughter rumbled in his chest.

“Tomorrow. If…and that’s a big IF…Freddie is well enough, we’ll go and see the Statue of Liberty. Then Freddie will need to rest before the show.” Jim laid down the law.

The boys stared in astonishment as Freddie clapped his hands with excitement, not even attempting to argue against Jim’s dominance.

“I think I preferred it when Freddie’s boyfriends didn’t care so much about him” said Roger sarcastically, poking his tongue through a smile.

************************

“I thought they would never leave!” Jim was exasperated. “I really want us to talk about…yesterday, about…what went wrong.”

Freddie groaned, then sprung like a gazelle onto the bed hiding himself completely from sight in the thick blankets.

Jim couldn’t help but smile.

He approached the bed slowly, sensibly, climbing back into his side before gathering all the warm blankets, and their contents into his arms and pulling them on to his chest.

“Maybe I’ll just talk to this warm snuggly blanket instead, it might actually talk back. What do you think? Is there a chance?” Jim teased.

The blankets quivered with a stifled giggle.

Two slim hands forced their way out of the cocoon, followed by a red crumpled face. “Can’t breathe” Freddie gasped laughing.

Jim feigned surprise. “Aah there he is!” Giving Freddie a noisy kiss on the forehead. Jim carefully pulled the duvet down and tucked it around Freddie’s neckline.

“Just checking your ears are free, so at least you can listen, because I know you won’t talk to me.”

Freddie seemed to relax a little, and rested his head on Jim’s chest for a moment before raising his head and giving Jim those eyes.

“Make love to me” he whispered softly.

“I DO love you Freddie, I have never stopped loving you, and I need you to hear that first” whispered Jim.

“Jamie said he loved me” Freddie said candidly.

Jim felt himself tense.

It seemed that Jamie had somehow aimed for Freddie’s weak spots. Confusing a man so disbelieving that he could ever truly be loved, with more lies, and misinformation.

“Do you think Jamie loved you?” Jim asked softly, coaxing Freddie to think about it, to really think about the men in his life who had claimed to love him.

Freddie shrugged “I dunno. What do you think?” he asked with uncertainty.

Jim squeezed him tightly.

“I wasn’t there sweetheart” he said sadly.

The words reconfirming Jim’s perceived failing a thousand times louder in his head.

He had not been there when Freddie needed him more than anyone else in the world.

Had he been there Freddie would not have been forced to experience the last few days.

Had he been there, Freddie would not be questioning love in this way at all.

“I was not there sweetheart” Jim re-affirmed, “…and I will never forgive myself.”

Jim felt a tear roll down his cheek which he brushed away quickly.

He had no right to give in to self-pity.

It wasn’t him that had suffered the consequences of his inadequacy.

“Do you think I love you?” Jim asked painfully.

Freddie nodded vigorously. “I do now” he giggled “You were so cross with me! You wouldn’t have been so cross if you weren’t jealous.”

Unexpectedly and unwelcome, the image of Bill Reid popped into Jim’s thoughts.

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion Freddie” Jim stammered. “Bad behaviour is not proof of love.”

Jim felt Freddie stiffen instantly, and cursed his inability to ever explain his own feelings in a way that Freddie could understand.

Jim caught Freddie’s wrist as he started to pull away from him.

“What I mean to say Freddie is …” Jim inhaled sharply “… I LOVE you! I love you very much, but bad behaviour is not an indication of that. Good behaviour is an indication of love. Consideration of your feelings, and your needs ahead of my own doubts and insecurities. Unlike Jamie, I will NEVER make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll never make you stay anywhere you don’t want to be. Never stop you talking to your friends or making new ones, or try to control you in anyway. Do you understand?” he asked softly.

“Jamie said you were going to beat me because you thought I was flirting with Joe. How would he have known that if you hadn’t said it?” Freddie questioned nervously.

Jim felt himself tense with anger.

Somehow this cretin had gathered all of Freddie’s weaknesses and used them against him.

And for what - because he was attractive?

Because Jamie had recognised his own nervous traits in Freddie?

A man he obviously thought was equipped to deal with being the object of obsession.

Jamie hadn’t thought about what Freddie needed at all.

Jamie hadn’t thought beyond his own heart breaking but selfish needs.

Jim stammered. “And what do you think darling? Have I ever given you any indication that I would beat you, or made you scared?”

Freddie shook his head.

“I said some bad things Freddie. I was upset and angry, and I jumped to some unfair conclusions. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I would like the chance to earn your trust back? Is that ok?” Jim asked hopefully.

“Why do you think I don’t trust you?” Freddie asked quizzically, tilting his head.

Jim tucked a curl behind Freddie’s ear, smoothing it into place.

“You thought I would just leave you because we had a fight. Just leave like that - boof - after everything we have been to each other in the last few months? That’s not love Freddie. Anyone who can do that doesn’t really love you. I pursued you. I waited for you. I nursed you when you were ill, and when other men broke your heart. I spoke for you when you couldn’t. I’m here because you asked me to be, I’m here because I want to be. I asked all those horrible questions because I wanted to understand Freddie – not because I was using them against you. I want to know what you are thinking and feeling, and you won’t talk to me darling. You’re so buttoned up inside.”

Freddie tipped his head back and repeated quietly “Make love to me”

Jim pulled Freddie back into his arms “I DO love you Freddie. More than I can ever tell you.”

“Show me” Freddie whispered.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you to someone you actually liked. Someone you wanted to be with more than me. Someone who would get to have these really awkward moments with you”

Freddie sniggered.

“… but they could hold you like now. Oh Freddie, it’s Joe!” Jim confessed. “I’m worried about how close you are to Joe.”

Freddie snapped his head up sharply, shame suffusing through his face

“I’m really confused….I thought this was about Jamie?” he stammered.

“Well, it is, but I went off the deep end because of Joe! I started to think you wanted him and not me, and then when I read the letter I didn’t even think it could be from anyone other than Joe. I thought you were restless and wanted someone – anyone – more than me.”

Freddie shook his head, and pulled Jim tentatively towards him as though expecting to be pushed away. “I only want you to touch me” Freddie laid his head down on Jim’s shoulder.

“Joe….really?” Freddie feigned shock, popping his head up again.

“But look how close you became….” Jim rationalised “….in five seconds flat!”

“I don’t like Joe like that ….I mean I love Joe….and he is hot…but I’m not attracted to him like that” Freddie bumbled.

An image of Bill Read’s screwed up livid face popped into his head.

“I mean…..” Freddie quickly qualified “I think Joe is LIKE me, I think he would be more into men like you” he lied.

“That’s what worries me darling, how easily you say you love Joe, and how hard it was for you to say you love me. It’s like you are holding out, waiting for something better.”

“That’s because…Joe can’t hurt me” Freddie said quietly.

Jim nodded as Freddie said it, as it dawned on him at the same time.

“So tell me, did you feel any less hurt yesterday for telling me you loved me?” Jim asked rhetorically. “You feel what you feel Freddie - whether you admit to it, or not - but you know sometimes it would be reassuring for ME to hear it.”

Freddie nodded, his curls brushing Jim’s chest.

Jim took a deep cleansing breath, it was out. All of it, out in the open – and Freddie was still here.

Still in his arms.

Playfully, Jim flipped a squealing Freddie onto his back.

****************************

“Now then…” Jim pressed his lips gently to Freddie’s. “….about this business of making love to you.”

Jim’s lips trailed across Freddie’s cheekbone, stopping to nibble softly on his earlobe and making their way down his neck.

Freddie sighed deeply, trembling as goose bumps rose on his skin.

Jim’s lips continued the trail down Freddie chest. Breathing in the scent of his skin, as his lips carved their way gently through the hair.

His tongue followed.

Licking small circles, working his way slowly to the sensitive area of Freddie’s nipple, and over to the other.

Freddie whimpered blissfully.

His head was dropped back, and his eyes were softly closed.

“I don’t want to scare you sweetheart by being all possessive, but I can’t be apart from you again” Jim declared, shaking his head resolutely.

“You’re a part of me Freddie. I’m not whole without you.”

Jim felt himself enveloped in warm arms and warm legs.

That was Freddie’s reply, and for the first time Jim felt comforted that Freddie felt the same way he did.

************************

“Can we switch it up a little?” Freddie teased with a twinkle in his eye, as he pushed the blankets lower to reveal he was very aroused. “I’m hard now, but I’m a little short on power, I might flake out on you.”

Jim groaned at the sight before him. Feeling himself harden in an instant.

Jim abandoned his attempt to woo Freddie gently with kisses and little nips, and sunk his lips around Freddie’s cock. Taking all of him on one breath.

Freddie inhaled sharply before blowing the air out on a long moan.

Despite encouraging him, Freddie was constantly surprised by Jim’s willingness to please him.

Jim gripped Freddie’s hips, and pulled his body firmly towards him, his tongue sliding along the length before flicking over the head, and sinking back down.

Freddie trembled in his arms.

“Like that?” Jim asked as he stopped for breath. “Think you can come, or are you too tired ?” Jim teased, as Freddie writhed in his arms.

“Don’t stop” Freddie whispered, his eyes narrowing in pleasure.

Never taking his eyes from Freddie’s, Jim trailed his fingers lightly over the skin at Freddie’s chest and neck, and continuing up and over his chin, tugging gently at his bottom lip.

Instinctively Freddie opened his mouth accepting Jim’s fingers as he pushed them inside. Closing his soft lips around the fingers and sucking suggestively.

Jim removed the slick fingers, and trailed them down Freddie’s side, over his hip, and pushed them gently into his body when they reached their destination.

Freddie’s head fell back, his eyes wide, lips dropping open as Jim pulsed the fingers inside of him, pulling back slowly before re-entering him.

“Is that alright sweetheart?” Jim whispered breathlessly, savouring every moment of the pleasure he was inflicting upon the gorgeous man beneath him.

Using his free hand, Jim followed the bones of Freddie’s spine under the arch of his back. Squeezing over the curve of his buttock, as his freshly licked lips sunk back down over his cock.

Freddie shifted, allowing Jim greater access as he started to move with delicious rhythm. His fingers massaging gently, building with every stroke of his mouth.

Jim didn’t think Freddie would climax. He was too tired. His body too hungry to fuel the power he needed to fall over the edge, but Jim was determined that Freddie would enjoy every stroke, that he would be left in no doubt of how much Jim adored him.

Rolling onto his knees, Jim began a trail of soft kisses from Freddie’s belly button up to his neck.

He rubbed softly at Freddie’s temple, encouraging him to open his eyes, pressing his lips softly to Freddie’s lips.

“What do you want darling?” Jim whispered softly. “Tell me what you want.”

Soft brown eyes locked to his, as Freddie’s hand trailed down Jim’s spine to the curve of his buttock, molding Jim’s body to his own.

“You. I want you” he whispered.

Freddie groaned as Jim pulled his fingers free, reaching for the lube bottle.

“I don’t like that” Freddie grumbled with an exaggerated pout.

Jim chuckled softly “Necessary evil my sweet” he teased, drawing Freddie’s immediate attention by pouring lube over his very aroused cock. Freddie took over with a firm massage down the length, threatening to push him over the edge before he had even entered Freddie’s body.

Jim stilled Freddie’s hand with a laugh, distracting him by pouring the lube onto his own body and massaging it between his buttocks.

Freddie exaggerated the flutter of his eyelashes, and rolled onto his front, exposing himself to Jim’s slow torment.

Jim chuckled, as he rolled Freddie onto his back, capturing both wrists in his hand and pushing them over his head onto the pillow.

Passion rolled into Freddie’s eyes as he pretended to growl, nipping at the skin at Jim’s neck with his teeth.

“Come here you. I want you” Jim growled, forcing his tongue between Freddie’s lips in a passionate kiss.

Jim pushed the head of his cock slowly into Freddie, enjoying the soft sigh that escaped his lips.

Freddie was home.

Right where he belonged.

**********************

Jim’s moan was louder than anticipated .

Freddie always did this to him. Brought him to the edge of climax so quickly, almost like a college boy in his first flush of lust.

Jim slowed his hips, determined to retain his dignity, taking a moment, taking in air.

He looked at his lover’s face.

Cheek pressed to the pillow.

Head tilted slightly.

Eyes closed softly.

Panting out satisfied moans.

Cheeks flushed deliciously.

It never grew old.

The pleasure Freddie derived from sex was so evident and so blatant.

The only thing his enigmatic lover didn’t try to hide.

Jim wrapped Freddie’s leg tighter over his back, pushing deeper inside him, working harder for the next luscious sound from Freddie’s beautiful lips.

Love making was the one thing that gave Jim an honest connection to his lover.

The one thing that blended, that merged, that gave Jim the reassurance he was looking for.

If Jim couldn’t reach him with love, with tender caresses, and the surety of always being by his side, wrapping him warm, and feeding him tit bits like a timid pet; sex was the sure-fire way that Jim could love him, could cherish him, and be sure that in that moment his love would be received.

“Open your eyes beautiful” Jim whispered.

Glimpses of warm brown appeared.

Whirling pools of hot chocolate darkened by passion and pleasure.

“I’m sorry I hurt you Freddie” Jim began. “I promise I will work so hard to show you how sorry I am – until you believe me, and trust me again. I love you with all my heart.”

*************************

Jim withdrew as gently as possible while still spawning an anguished cry from Freddie.

“Don’t stop!” he pleaded, an adorable pout forming on his love kissed lips.

Jim rolled him gently onto his side, and wriggled along the space behind him.

He deftly uncapped the lube bottle with one hand, pouring a little more onto his body, before settling behind Freddie, pushing his thigh towards his stomach, and pushing back inside, wrapping his arm around Freddie’s waist, and pulling him closer to his warm body.

“I just wanted to hold you darling” Jim whispered, nibbling on Freddie’s ear as he pushed deeper into him.

“Do you remember a long time ago you asked me what I didn’t like in bed, and I wouldn’t tell you?” Jim asked surprisingly coherently for the situation.

“Mmmmm” Freddie nodded.

“I don’t like bottoming” said Jim boldly, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “I can’t do this” he said squeezing Freddie tighter.

Freddie giggled, before saying inquisitively in a sing song tone “Jim…?”

Jim smiled “Yes, darling?”

“You talk a lot during sex” Freddie giggled.

“Am I putting you off your stroke?” he laughed.

Jim’s chuckle broke off into a whine as Freddie thrust back to meet him, clamping down hard on his cock.

Jim cried out loudly in astonished pleasure.

“You’ll pay for that little one!” he threatened, slowly running his hand over the soft skin of Freddie’s stomach, before thrusting hard into his prostate.

Freddie’s head fell back onto Jim’s shoulder in a silent scream, his eyes clamping tightly shut as his whole body shuddered.

Freddie flung his arm back, tucking his hand behind Jim’s neck, and pulling him closer.

Freddie struggled to pant out Jim’s name, as he began thrusting hard.

“Shut up and fuck me!” he wailed.

Jim growled into Freddie’s ear, surprised to sense the familiar signs.

The quickening of his heartbeat.

The rippling of his stomach.

The tensing of muscle.

Freddie cried out as the pleasure engulfed him, a death grip on Jim’s hand before falling silent.

*********************

“How long has he been like this? Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?” said a familiar voice.

Freddie attempted to smile, but he couldn’t – not yet – he was too warm, too comfortable where he was.

“Erm….about ten minutes.” That was Jim’s voice. Nervous…frightened even….but sure.

“He needs a hospital Jim. I’ve made him porridge, but how can we get it into him like this? He needs to be drip fed.” The familiar fun voice again. That voice belonged to a friend.

“He terrified of hospitals Joe. I’m trained in first aid. Freddie has a good strong heartbeat, and his temperature is up, not down. Look at the flush on his cheeks. He has a very strong life force. If he doesn’t come round in the next ten minutes, I’ll call his doctor back out, but the only way he’s going to hospital against his wishes is if his life is in danger. I won’t risk his life Joe, but Freddie would wish to recuperate with those he loves around him.”

Freddie felt his heart throb in his chest.

His memory wandered painfully back to another time in life.

A time he had asked a loved one for help – his father – a man who he should have been able to trust, but who had let him down badly.

Unconscionably.

Irrevocably damaging his boyhood ability to trust anyone.

That time had passed.

He hadn’t even had to ask Jim.

Jim just got it.

Jim understood.

Jim would protect him.

Freddie focused all his energy, trying to open his eyes, trying to flutter his lashes, trying to reach out a hand, anything to convey his love.

“Help me to sit him up” said Jim.

Freddie felt the cushions plumped behind him, as two pairs of strong gentle hands pulled him upright, settling him against the soft cushions once more.

“Get another for his head” Jim instructed boldly, as Freddie felt his extra support appear behind his head.

He tried to move his hand. To reach out an arm and squeeze the fingers closest.

“You fucked him unconscious” joked Joe.

“I didn’t!” Jim insisted, offended, before crumbling into laughter at the expression on Joe’s face. “You make me sound like a predator. He was very much enjoying it …honestly.”

“Telling me!” laughed Joe. “I was actually thinking you must be a tremendous fuck.”

Even through closed lids, Freddie could sense Jim’s blush.

Freddie felt a cool soft flannel being wiped tenderly around his face.

“Come on baby. You’re breakfast is ready….even if it has gone 7pm. You’ve got the world’s smallest portion of porridge with apple and raspberry coulis, so you even get some fruit.”

Blinking Freddie forced his eyelids to open.

Jim’s concerned face swam into focus.

Freddie reached out a hand to clasp Jim’s.

“I’m starving!” Freddie declared groggily, as strong arms pulled him close.


	34. Encounters: Shooting Star - Lady Liberty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys plan a morning taking in the sights of New York City, and even do a little shopping....but what is Jim buying?? 😊

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies I’m so sorry it is taking me so long to upload the latest chapters. They start small and then they grow and grow! 😊
> 
> I hope you had the perfect Christmas and wonderful new year parties.

“Come on Freddie! I want your hot bot back in my bed by midday at the latest!” Jim called to Freddie, who had found yet something else of interest to photograph in the hotel foyer.

An elderly couple strolled by arm in arm, faces ablaze with disgust at Jim’s comment.

“That is not how it sounded madam” Jim bumbled, face glowing “I’m his….doctor….he’s unwell…he is hot with fever, and should really be in bed – recovering.”

Making no comment, but not re-arranging their expressions either, the elderly couple made their way towards the door.

Roger bent double slapping his thigh. “Good recovery yourself Jim!” he muttered through hysterical laughter.

Finally straightening up, Roger inquired “What’s he doing now?! He’s taking an epic length of time to do anything today.” Roger rolled his eyes, and yelled “Freddie come on!”

Freddie’s response was a number of hurried snaps from his camera. None of them in focus, but that didn’t dent his enthusiasm for his latest toy, and he giggled to himself as he perused his handiwork.

“Not sure about the hair” Roger mused to Jim, tilting his head to look at Freddie’s hair from a number of angles.

Jim grinned. “I love it. He’s left me enough to grab hold of.”

“Urgh!” wailed Roger, as Brian joined the group.

“I don’t wanna know what you’re talking about do I?” said Brian cautiously.

“He’s talking about last night Bri – when he fucked Freddie unconscious” stated Roger proudly.

“Urgh!” mirrored Brian. “I really don’t need to hear that story again.”

Jim was horrified.

“Where did you hear that story in the first place? That should not be public knowledge! Never repeat that to Freddie – save for the fact it’s not true anyway - he’d freak out. I guess our Mr Finelli is tempted towards indiscretion” concluded Jim.

“Stress less Jim” said Roger. “Joe only told us at the bar last night.”

“Not the point. Freddie is very sensitive about his sexuality – you know that Roger – you don’t need me to tell you. Besides – it’s private” stressed Jim.

“There was no one in the bar but us and John, Jim. Relax. Besides, Joe was singing your praises, and he stayed up all night to cook for Freddie. Cut him some slack yeah” pleaded Brian.

“I know.” Jim looked down to his feet, feeling self-conscious about chastising Freddie’s closest friends.

“Where is my little elf anyway?” asked Jim, attempting to lighten the mood, having lost sight of Freddie.

Deaky chortled as he joined the group, watching Freddie dance behind Jim so as not to be seen.

Freddie stood on tiptoe, and covered Jim’s eyes with his hands.

“Guess who” he teased playfully.

After another refreshing night’s sleep and some nourishing food – if tiny portions – Freddie was as good as new, and ready for some fun.

Jim chuckled, instinctively dying to sweep Freddie up in his arms for a playful hug.

He couldn’t do it here.

They were in public.

They had to pretend to be friends – mates.

“How is Veronica?” Freddie asked linking his arm through Deaky’s, and attempting to steer him towards a large sofa in the foyer.

Jim caught them both and steered the men towards the door.

“Freddie come on love” he coaxed. “Not only do I want you to be resting shortly, but Joe will be serving lunch before we set off at this rate.”

Freddie glanced at the door.

It was a flash.

A second, but Jim spotted the fear in those expressive eyes.

He was stalling.

Freddie was frightened to leave the hotel.

“I like your hat” said Freddie cautiously, jealously coveting the hat that was perched low on Roger’s head, almost hiding his blue eyes.

Freddie swept a hand through the curls he had spent an age styling into some sort of order. “I want my hat” he muttered to himself, looking around as though his hat might just appear.

Jim sneezed loudly. So loudly that the sound reverberated throughout the high gloss foyer, causing the boys and other hotel guests to look. He rifled around in his jacket for his handkerchief.

Brian clapped a hand to his shoulder, noting the redness in his eyes. “Are you alright mate?”

Jim turned towards Brian conspiratorially, muttering into his shoulder “It’s this bastard cold. I’ve got it now, but don’t tell Freddie, You know how he worries.”

“It’s not going to be so easy to disguise if you sneeze like that again” Brian pointed out.

Jim pointed towards the revolving door. “As soon as we get Freddie out there, I can blame the cold for my red nose…..” Jim spotted Freddie in front of an enormous mirror re-arranging his curls, and gestured the boys towards him. “Freddie is nervous to leave the hotel” he told them in a whisper.

“I don’t blame him!” said Deaky, rather too loudly.

“Did he tell you that?” asked Roger, dumbfounded that Freddie would discuss his feelings with anyone.

“No, but I know him well enough now Rog….” Jim smiled softly “…and those lovely eyes give him away. Can we distract him while we sweep him outside? We can surround him once we’re out there” Jim said quickly as Freddie re-joined the group.

“What I want to know….” Roger asked Freddie loudly sweeping him towards the door “…is how you could resist all that sausage and bacon at breakfast” he licked his lips loudly “.. and choose instead…..scrambled eggs?”

Jim was horrified.

He frantically swiped his hand across his throat in a ‘cut’ gesture. The last thing Freddie needed reminding of was the contents of his stomach.

To Jim’s surprise Freddie giggled. “You didn’t have Joe on your doorstep at midnight with caviar and mashed potatoes” Freddie smiled brightly, and Jim couldn’t resist giving him a discreet squeeze.

“Yes…..his majesty is being served caviar now….what the fuck is Joe creating?! We have to take him back to London with a taste for caviar” Jim laughed.

Freddie giggled and discreetly squeezed his hand into Jim’s, clutching much more tightly than anticipated.

Jim let the revolving door sweep round, ushering Freddie and himself into the next free section giving him just seconds to wrap an arm around Freddie and whisper “I’ve got you” before they were out onto the street.

“I’ve got his mid morning snack in my pocket” Jim said, continuing the food discussion, popping his hand into the pocket of his trousers, and poking the outline of a banana through the fabric.”

Roger doubled over laughing, slapping his thigh once again. “There’s that secret weapon you knocked Freddie out with last night.”

The boys - including Freddie - howled with laughter. Jim ran after them, his face flushed crimson insisting “it’s not true!”

************************

West 52nd Street was awash with activity, and despite his initial nervousness Freddie was soon enraptured by the city’s beating heart.

He couldn’t get enough of the street stalls selling all kinds of foods and sweets and cigarettes, and despite Jim’s earlier concerns about Freddie’s energy levels, he always seemed to have something in his mouth.

Jim berated himself for Freddie’s shivering though, and wished he had wrapped him in one of his own jackets before they left the hotel.

A juggler rode by on a unicycle causing Freddie to giggle, and clap with encouragement.

It was difficult for Jim not to touch him, and he knew Freddie felt it too.

The sensory energy between them crackled.

Invisible to the eye, but causing them both to almost reach out for one another - to share a joy, a joke, or Freddie to seek warmth.

Freddie shivered again, and Jim steered him towards a stall selling hats and scarves in beautiful bright colours, and bohemian styles.

As much as he adored caring for Freddie – wrapping him warm in scarves, and popping mittens on his hands – Jim needed to teach Freddie to care for himself. Something he seemed not to have accomplished during his teens, despite his incredibly heightened intelligence.

“Roggie!” Freddie called to his friend with enthusiasm. “Come see” he ordered, waving him over. “We need to get some of these styles for a photo shoot, they’re beautiful!”

Roger flicked his cigarette onto the floor and stubbed it out with his boot. “Freddie, check your pockets. Have you some money you haven’t told us about?” inquired Roger sarcastically.

Freddie patted the pockets of Jim’s jeans, his hands brushing dangerously close, his eyes locking to Jim’s.

“I like this hat” said Freddie, suddenly turning away, leaving Jim to wonder if he’d imagined Freddie’s attentions.

Early stirrings in his jeans confirmed he hadn’t.

Thrusting his hands deeply into his pockets, Jim took a moment to follow Freddie around the back of the stall, only to find he had vanished.

Jim spotted Roger rifling through some scarves.

“Roger, where is…..” Jim shouted, trying to rationalise with himself that Freddie could not disappear that quickly, despite his thumping heart.

Roger pointed to the next stall with a cheeky grin.

Freddie passed a handful of cents to the stall holder with a polite nod.

When he turned towards Jim, he was pushing an enormous phallic lollipop into his mouth. His cheeks hollowing with the sucking action, before slowly pulling the lollipop out of his mouth, and licking the underside.

Jim dropped his head into his hands, inhaling sharply as he realised that despite feeling unwell, he was not going to win the battle with his own body.

Freddie walked purposefully towards him.

He was so beautiful.

If music wasn’t his chosen career, Freddie could have been a supermodel.

Freddie locked brown eyes with Jim’s hazel ones.

Wrapping his tongue around the end of the lollipop a couple of times before plunging it slowly into his mouth once more.

“Roger….quick….which hat did Freddie want?” Jim gabbled, trying desperately to distract himself.

Too late.

Freddie slowly drew the lollipop from his own mouth, and thrust it into Jim’s, slowly withdrawing it again.

Jim groaned loudly, as Freddie’s naughty little fingers squeezed his cock discreetly.

To the curious bystander, it hadn’t happened at all, but Freddie’s cheeky action left Jim battling a growing erection in the day lit streets of New York City.

“This one” said Roger brightly, returning with a hat very similar to his own, and plonking it on Freddie’s head.

Freddie giggled. Snatching back the lollipop and pushing it into his own mouth.

Pulling the hat down further, Freddie stretched onto his tiptoes to kiss Jim’s cheek. “Thank you darling” he gushed, before running back to Brian and Deaky with a smile.

Freddie was scrutinising his reflection in the window of an office block when Roger and Jim re-joined the group.

“Does he just get everything he wants?!” asked Brian sarcastically.

“It suits him!” Jim jumped to Freddie’s defense – and his own.

Deaky nodded. “It does suit him Bri – you’ve got to admit that.”

Finally satisfied with his reflection, Freddie turned slowly to look at Jim.

The hat was pulled down low.

So low, only dark kohl rimmed brown eyes could be seen.

Dark brown eyes, hollowed cheeks, and lollipop as Freddie’s sucked harder on the stick of candy.

“Yes, but we’ve got to take him home with us – spoilt!” reasoned Brian. “He’ll be unbearable!” Brian chuckled at the drama of his own statement.

“He’s fucking unbearable now” Jim whined reaching for Freddie, his face a grimace “I wanna take him home right now….give me that fucking hat.”

Freddie squealed with mischievous laughter as Jim snatched the hat off his head, and held it in front of his crotch, as he pushed Freddie towards a waiting taxi.

“Get in there before you can do anymore damage with that fucking lollipop!” he ordered with humour. “You’re a minx!”

************************

Freddie stretched his hands towards the sky and a rush of cold air met his bare navel where his top didn’t quite meet his jeans.

The day was beautiful.

The sky was blue.

It was a little chilly, but he was safe, and starting to feel the rosy glow of his health returning.

His mind hummed with the catchy melody of The Beatles’ Yellow Submarine, and he wondered if they had been standing in a buzzing environment such as this when they wrote the cheerful melody.

Ferry boats bobbed playfully on the river as excited children played hop scotch, and even their harassed parents looked like they too were on holiday.

Freddie checked out his lover in profile.

He seemed entranced by something in a shop window, and Freddie felt a pang of insecurity, hoping another man hadn’t grabbed his attention.

Jim didn’t seem to be himself today, and Freddie worried that he was working him too hard. As much as it pained him to think about - their first American tour would be over tonight, and they would be on the flight back to London this time tomorrow.

Once on home turf, for the short hiatus between gigs, Freddie would ensure Jim had a full and proper rest.

He would care for Jim for a change.

Spoil him rotten.

Freddie pirouetted, taken with his own contentedness, and momentarily forgetting he was in public.

He didn’t recover as quickly as usual, and the small exertion left him dizzy and a little nauseous.

A wolf whistle.

Freddie raised his eyes to see a man sporting a lime green Mohican hairstyle was lapping him up with his eyes.

He suddenly felt a little exposed.

The man laughed, and turned to a smaller man beside him.

A man with long greasy locks, and intense brown eyes.

It was Jamie.

*************************

The ring was calling Jim.

He hadn’t be able to take his eyes off it.

It was no diamond solitaire, that is for sure, but it was bold and intricate and complicated, but equally dainty and sparkly.

The silver bands interwoven with diamantes, or zirconia, or perhaps it was even just glass.

The complexity of its design did not diminish it’s beauty – it enhanced it.

The ring was small, probably for a woman’s hand.

Jim glanced over towards Freddie’s hands, which were stuffed into his jacket pockets and unfortunately couldn’t be seen.

Jim had no idea of his correct ring size.

His fingers were small though weren’t they? No thicker than a smaller woman perhaps.

A pianists hands.

Jim looked at Freddie again. His whole being was scrunched up against the breeze blowing off the Hudson River.

The boat was a dot on the horizon, but it would be here in no time.

Jim raised his gaze to Freddie’s face.

His expression was pained.

His eyes fixed and staring.

His lips pressed together.

Freddie hopped from one foot to the other as though trying to keep warm.

His arms were wrapped tightly around his stomach.

Jim discreetly grabbed Freddie’s elbow and pulled him towards him. “Are you ok sweetheart?” he inquired.

Freddie shook his head violently from side to side, before sobbing into his hand.

He turned away from the queue, and Jim, his hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

“Freddie?” whispered Jim with concern.

“I’m gonna be sick” gasped Freddie.

It was his breathing that concerned Jim more.

His breaths were coming in ragged gasps. His eyes were wide and terrified.

Jim wrapped an arm around Freddie’s shoulder and attempted to steer him towards a toilet block, but his feet wouldn’t move.

“I didn’t know what to do without you. He could have killed me, I wouldn’t have cared, but he said his friends had you, and Roger, and Deaky and Brian and if I didn’t behave they would kill you, and I couldn’t help you, and I thought I would never see you again, but you didn’t want me anymore, and I’d never get to go home. He’s everywhere, I see him everywhere and he’s here today……” Freddie sobbed loudly into his hands, attracting the attention of every passer-by.

“Jamie??” cried Jim with concern. “Where sweetheart? Tell me where.”

Freddie pointed discreetly to a young man who was walking with his rather psychedelic friend towards the harbour.

It was a young man for sure.

A young man with dark hair and dark eyes – but it wasn’t Jamie.

Jim didn’t care who saw.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Freddie, burying his fingers into his hair and holding his head securely against his chest. Trying desperately to hold the pieces of him together.

Jim rocked Freddie for several minutes as loud sobs racked his body.

Jim didn’t know what else he could do.

He couldn’t make this better.

“Jamie can’t get you anymore darling. He’s locked up in Pittsburgh. It’s your imagination playing horrible tricks on you. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal Freddie. It’s going to take some time to recover, but you are safe here with me. I promise” implored Jim, squeezing him harder with every word. “Don’t keep it locked up inside. Just come to me alright?” he soothed.

“I want to go home” Freddie whimpered.

“Come on then, everyone will understand” Jim started to steer Freddie in the direction from which they came, but he didn’t move his feet.

“I can’t let everyone down” he whispered quietly now.

“They’ll understand sweetheart. My God you’ve been scared for your life – we’ve been scared for your life – let’s have a cosy afternoon at the hotel. Maybe we can get ask to have the fire on in the lounge, we can have hot chocolate, and play scrabble. Would you like that honey?”

The boat was drawing nearer.

“No! I want to go home ….to London” Freddie sobbed quietly onto Jim’s shoulder.

His words echoed through Jim’s startled brain, their gravity shaking him to the core.

Could they do that?

Abandon the tour?

In a moment of calm, would Freddie even want to do that?

Abandon the dreams he had worked all his life to achieve?

Let the band down…..Mott, John Reid, thousands of adoring fans who had already been postponed this week?

What would become of his future?

Did he…Jim Hutton …need to be the strong one?

The one that told a sobbing, trembling Freddie no?!

Now Jim was frozen in terror.

Is this what it was like to make a decision for a loved one not of sound mind?

Jim would not let him throw away his dreams….but he could not think of anything to say right now either, so he held Freddie close, shielding his face from curious strangers, ignoring daggers from those who disapproved. Jim was grateful that Freddie was not yet famous enough to be recognised in the street.

A nearby couple were paying a bit too much attention to them.

The female was rather too interested, and Jim attempted to turn Freddie away, when he noticed the compassion etched on her face.

Jim looked again - and then again – and he realised his own expression must have been begging for assistance.

Too late. The woman was coming over, leading her husband by the arm.

“Are you boys alright?” she asked with discreet sympathy.

Jim was surprised when Freddie raised his head from his shoulder, wiped his eyes and mumbled “I’m not well.”

“What’s the matter sweetie?” asked the kindly middle aged woman.

Freddie shook his head, and buried it into Jim’s neck.

Jim extended a hand. “Hi, Jim Hutton, this is Freddie. He’s had a bit of a scare lately. He’ll be fine once it is out of his system. I think this is a low point.” Jim rubbed Freddie’s arm vigorously.

“What have you got to be scared of honey?” asked the woman sympathetically.

Jim wasn’t going to say anymore. It wasn’t his place.

“Nothing” Freddie whispered, wiping his eyes. His breathing starting to calm.

“We’re going to see Lady Liberty” Freddie said, pointing towards the statue.

“Just you and your….” the lady locked eyes with Jim, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Personal assistant” Jim quipped. It was out before he could stop it.

He sounded ridiculous.

No one here knew that Freddie was a rock musician.

What earthly reason would he have for a p.a?!

He looked little more than a small boy in his jeans and floppy hat with red blotchy eyes.

The lady looked from Jim to Freddie, and back to Jim, her gaze direct.

“Friend?” she offered questioningly.

Jim nodded confirmation.

“There are three more of us” sniffed Freddie, “…they have gone to buy our tickets for the boat.”

Just then, the sun re-emerged from behind a cloud.

“You’re going to have a wonderful day” the lady smiled comfortingly.

She pointed to the large silent man beside her. “This here is my long suffering husband Burt, and I am Sylvia. I’m a therapist.”

Freddie stiffened. “I don’t need a doctor” he said waspishly, looking at Jim as though for confirmation.

Sylvia laughed openly and loudly, but her gaze didn’t leave Jim’s face.

“I’m just introducing myself there sweetie. I’m not going to section you – not today anyway!” she joked.

Freddie dared to smile.

“You could probably use some quiet time though sweetie. Your nerves seem a little jangled” Sylvia said, trying to tempt a little more information out of Freddie.

Sylvia narrowed her eyes.

“Hang on a minute…” she said, nudging the silent Burt. “You’re that boy that was kidnapped recently. Why, you’re famous! Don’t you look different without your stage clobber on?! I didn’t recognise you straight away. You’re smaller than in your photo. You’re something of a celebrity sweetie.”

“Freddie is a rock musician” said Jim, feeling relief wash over him. It was kind of nice to have some support, someone else to distract Freddie from how he was feeling.

Jim squeezed Freddie. “In fact, I’m selling him very short. Freddie is a very talented pianist and lyricist.”

Freddie blushed.

Sylvia nudged him. “You’ve got a fan there sweetie” Sylvia laughed, causing Jim to blush too. “You probably don’t get too much quiet time in your chosen profession. I think you could use a little more – just until you feel better. I only read about your rescue in this morning’s paper, and here you are, bold as brass waiting for the ferry boat!”

Freddie and Jim leapt into the air as a hand was clasped on each of their shoulders.

“Got the tickets” announced Roger, dodging a low punch from Freddie.

A idea was forming in Jim’s mind….very slowly….he had to act quicker.

“I’ve got to take a piss guys” Jim announced to the small group, wriggling free of an astonished Freddie.

“The boat’s nearly here! Couldn’t you have gone before?” whined Brian looking at his watch.

“I didn’t need it before” said Jim, backing away from the group. “Besides I weren’t leaving Freddie alone. I’ll be a minute….maybe two. Don’t leave without me!” Jim called over his shoulder.

********************

Jim headed for the toilet block.

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder before ducking behind the brick building.

As soon as he was out of sight, he broke into a run towards the jewelers.

If Jim was late for the boat, he’d have the wrath of the whole of Queen to deal with – plus he couldn’t be away from Freddie for long, who knew if he would break down again before he even got on the boat.

At least he had the boys.

Jim clutched his chest as he came to an abrupt stop before the jewelers window.

He was surprised by how quickly his breathing returned to his normal pattern.

He had never been fit before.

Able to keep up in the club, and adequately sporty, but not running fit.

He fought back a chuckle as he realised all the sex he was having with Freddie was helping more than just his love life.

Jim looked at the ring once more.

It surely was a one off.

An original.

Unique…and Freddie did have a birthday coming up.

If he was honest with himself, Jim had no idea how Freddie would receive the unusual gift.

Jim pushed on the door, and jumped when the jangle of the bell announced his arrival.

The petite shop assistant hurried out from behind the counter.

“Can I help you sir?” she asked with a bright smile. Her pony tail still swinging with the swiftness of her movement.

Jim suddenly didn’t know what to say.

What was he doing?!

Jim cleared his throat.

“There’s a ring in the window…erm…very small…I mean….it’s silver…with the crosses….”

“The Celtic design sir?” confirmed the assistant, unclipping a small set of keys from her apron.

Jim rolled his eyes at how much he was dithering. Uneven able to find the word Celtic in his Irish head.

He usually liked more time to think about these things.

“Yes please” he said with a little more certainty.

The assistant removed the tray from the window.

“I feel I should warn you up front that we only have this design in this size. It’s a new designer, who likes to try her designs on the lower end metals first, but as you can see it’s exquisite workmanship, and truly is one of a kind.”

Jim fought back laughter. It sounded as though she was describing Freddie.

“What occasion is it sir?” the assistant asked with a smile.

“It’s ….a birthday” stumbled Jim.

The lady beamed brightly. “Well, this one is marketed as a Celtic wedding band, but it can be whatever you want it to be. What size were you looking for sir? As I said, we only have this one….” the assistant tailed off, biting her lip nervously.

Jim cleared his throat, and swept a hand through his hair. He was becoming more aware of the time. If he was much longer, the lads would come looking, and he wasn’t comfortable leaving Freddie at a time when he was so uncertain in his own skin.

“I’ll take it!” Jim said with more confidence than he felt.

“Oh lovely!” said the lady, beaming brightly. “I’ll find you a nice box.”

“I’m sorry to rush you” said Jim “ but we’re booked on the next boat to the statue and Ellis Island. I can’t miss it, and I don’t want my partner to come looking for me.”

“On it sir” said the assistant. Her forefinger running double time down a row of boxes, before pulling out a plush claret velvet box.

Jim was relieved to see the box was small enough to fit in the pocket on the inside of his jacket.

Freddie never had pockets in any of his tightly fitted clothes, and refused to carry money. He was regal in those respects – but it meant that Jim often had small fingers poking around in the pockets of his jeans. Freddie was yet to hide anything in the inside pocket of Jim’s jacket.

The assistant handed the dainty box to Jim, who handed over the right money, and headed for the door.

“Thank you so much” Jim called over his shoulder.

“No – thank you sir – and I hope the lady loves it” called the assistant – but Jim was long gone.

Jim rushed around the toilet block, pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

The small group were just ahead of him.

Freddie was wrapped in Deaky’s arms, but Jim could see he was smiling, and was just trying to keep warm.

Brian was tutting, and kept looking at his watch.

Roger was sitting on the kerb drumming out a beat on the inside of his purple Dr Martin boot.

Sylvia and Burt seemed to be enjoying the company of the young men.

“Here he is look” cried Sylvia, and it warmed Jim’s heart to see Freddie’s face break into a beaming smile.

Freddie rushed forward and hugged Jim, despite the presence of strangers.

“I was worried that you were sick too” he cooed.

“I’m fine sweetheart” Jim said, carelessly kissing Freddie’s forehead, and ignoring the growing nausea in the pit of his stomach. “It was that last cup of tea, went straight through me.”

“Ready Freddie?” said Roger, jumping to his feet.

The boys groaned.

Roger chuckled “That never gets old.”

Freddie danced his way towards the boat, before calling to Sylvia and Burt “We’re playing at the Uris tonight, please come see us.”

The couple looked at each other, charmed at meeting such a delightfully polite young man.

“We’re Queen” Freddie called.

“Of course you are sweetie” said Sylvia.

“What did he say?” asked Burt cocking an ear towards his wife as the couple walked away.

“He said they’re queer” Sylvia educated her husband, not unkindly.

“Now how do you know that?!” Burt asked, eyebrows raised.

“Jim is the boy one, and the little one - Freddie – he’s the girlie one” explained Sylvia laughing “honestly Burt, keep up with the times!” she chastised gently.


	35. Encounters: Shooting Star - The shoes are off!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those closest to Freddie are treated to full view of his mercurial nature as he prepares for the final show of the tour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another epic for you lovies. I hope you enjoy it. I can’t help but think Freddie’s tempestuous side is really rather cute – what do you think?

Jim moaned loudly as pleasure rippled through his stomach.

He rested his head back and closed his eyes.

Usually he liked to watch the vision at his knees, it was too beautiful to miss, but on this occasion Jim was blindfolded.

His hands were also tied above his head.

If he used brute strength, he could easily break out of the restraints, but he didn’t tell Freddie this. Freddie was equally turned on by the vision, and probably more so by the thought that he had his lover captive - right where he wanted him.

Small fingers played around the back of Jim’s hip. The other hand was around the base of his cock, as hot lips moved rhythmically along the length.

It was clear that Freddie enjoyed giving.

Jim had felt shocking all morning.

His head had throbbed.

His stomach had churned with every lurch of the ferry to Ellis Island.

His only pleasure had been the smile on Freddie’s face for every new monument that had caught his eye, every question he had shyly posed to the tour guide, and every new friend – man, woman or child that Freddie had endeared himself to with a polite nod, and timid smile.

For that moment and this, Jim’s nausea had been forgotten.

***************************

The couple had nearly argued on their return to the hotel.

Jim had insisted that Freddie get some rest before rehearsal for the final show.

Jim was feeling unusually apprehensive about the show himself.

He had every faith in Freddie – it wasn’t that.

The butterflies were something else.

The acceptance of what Freddie did for a living.

The realisation that despite Freddie’s fever, and battle with exhaustion and malnourishment; that the show would go on.

The acceptance of his own role.

A small cog in the chain, but the one that must hold this beautiful creature together, and deliver him to the stage, and thousands of baying fans – sometimes against his better judgement.

The carnival would only get bigger.

Jim was no longer the barman at the Market Tavern. Freddie no longer the singer in a student band.

It was no longer just a Friday night gig. Queen were appearing at the Uris in New York City.

Sometime in the last six weeks the band had graduated to the big league.

Jim felt he had not.

It was his time too, time to fulfill his own role to his greater strength.

Freddie had declared that he was going to the bar with his friends.

His face at Jim’s insistence that he would not be visiting the bar that afternoon had both intimidated him as an employee, and amused him as a lover.

Freddie had stopped in his tracks, fists screwed up by his sides, dark eyes narrowed, his lips full in pout, and a flush of anger suffusing along his prominent cheekbones.

Freddie did not like being told no.

Jim was reminded of an infant poised to explode in temper.

Freddie was also his employer.

In a puff the tension had evaporated, and Freddie had agreed to return to their room - on the condition that Jim allowed him to make up for his flagrant misuse of the lollipop.

************************

Freddie picked up the pace, engulfing Jim like the lollipop, a clever placed tongue washing over the sensitive tip.

“Aah Freddie” Jim cried out, attempting to reach down and grab a fistful of Freddie’s hair, but the restraints held fast.

Jim felt the familiar climb as every muscle clenched at once .

The shrill sound of the telephone broke the spell making them both jump.

Jim groaned “Noooooo!” still halfway to heaven.

Freddie squeezed Jim’s hip, shaking his head he mumbled “mm-mm” with his mouth full. The vibration heavenly along Jim’s length.

The telephone could wait.

Jim’s impending pleasure could not.

A small hand roamed further over Jim’s buttock. Naughty fingers intruding; poking and prodding into areas that Freddie knew Jim was not altogether comfortable with, but he would one day be converted.

He would be gentle.

A quick glance at his lover’s face - impassioned despite the blindfold - told Freddie that day might come sooner.

“Freddie what are you……aaah” Jim cried loudly.

With a satisfied grin, Freddie sunk down on Jim’s cock once more. Mirroring the movement of his mouth with his hand.

Jim was helpless.

His body overtaken, trembling with a pleasure he had no desire or ability to stop as he raced towards impending climax.

The beautiful man before him. His illness forgotten.

Jim could hear the volume coming from his own lips. Sound that would once have embarrassed him to mute.

If Jim could be credited with having taught Freddie to make love tenderly, then Freddie had taught Jim wild abandoned passion.

Both men cried out – Jim lost in waves of orgasm, Freddie with jubilation of how he could make his lover feel.

Both men wore exhausted smiles – each contented with their part.

**********************

Jim opened the door cautiously as the impatient visitor threatened to knock it down with their insistent thumping.

Freddie had turned tail, still nervous of unexpected knocks on the door.

Despite being a slight man – John Reid could fill the doorway when he was in that mood.

An expectant expression on his face.

A dark brooding look in his eye.

“Well?” he demanded curtly, turning a blind eye to Jim’s nakedness, save for a strategically placed towel. “Don’t you ever answer the fucking phone?”

Jim’s blank expression seemed to further enrage the manager.

“Freddie? I assume as nobody has updated me that we actually have a show tonight? That the largest audience we’ve ever amassed will be entertained while waiting for the main act?” John spat sarcastically.

“Huh?” spluttered Jim, still basking in his afterglow.

“Freddie!! Is he well enough to perform tonight you dumb fuck?” barked John, his Scottish accent broadening with agitation.

“Oh….yes….I think so. He’s…napping right now, but yes he’s excited to perform” Jim reassured him.

John narrowed his eyes to very thin slits.

“What’s up with you Hutton? You’re not yourself” John observed.

“No. I feel like shit. I’ve caught this cold – flu – whatever the boys had. I could use a couple of hours in bed to be honest John, but I need to make sure that Freddie eats everything that’s on his diet sheet before the show. Joe’s bringing Freddie nutritious snacks every hour until the performance. He hates it. He won’t eat it by himself” implored Jim.

“Don’t be so bloody ridiculous, you wee pussy!” John spat in temper, apprehensive also for the night ahead. “The boy genius can use a fucking spoon. He doesn’t need you to hold his hand.”

“That’s not what I’m saying John” reasoned Jim. “I could just use some help keeping Freddie calm and focused until rehearsal. Once he’s with the band, he’ll be fine. I just need a couple of hours shut eye then I’ll be right for tonight.” Jim didn’t like the sound of his own voice, he was a grown man who was almost begging.

John flapped his hand.

“Slip into bed with your broken wee bird right now then Hutton. Just get him to the stage on time!” With that John swept down the corridor, and knocked loudly on the boys’ door.

Jim popped his head out into the corridor. “Erm….they’re in the bar John.”

“Fucks sake!” John muttered to himself, angry at his second disappointment, before striding down the corridor.

*********************

Jim ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

He hadn’t realised that he was trembling…and no longer from Freddie’s mouth.

Why could no one else see the fragility in Freddie?

Freddie was not a child, nor was he broken, but he needed somebody to deal with the simpler, more mundane aspects of life.

To make his vocation easier.

To keep him moving in a forwardly direction.

Jim cast his mind over their time in America. How far would Freddie have made it without him?

The club scene.

Jamie.

His health.

The boys would have done their best, but there was something missing in Freddie.

The necessity to put himself first.

The fundamentals of human preservation; to eat, drink, sleep, stay safe, and survive!

Freddie’s biggest failing was to see everything and everyone as a good opportunity.

The chance to impress, to improve, to make happy, or entertain.

His own vitality groaning under the responsibility of everybody else’s needs.

Jim strolled into the bedroom.

“All clear sweetheart, it was only…”

He stopped in his tracks. All his anger melting away.

Freddie was crumpled into the padded armchair.

Surrounding him was a cloud of bold printed satin – pink, purple, green, blue and orange.

One leg was hung over the arm of the chair, the other was curled up, his foot in his hand. Perhaps a neglected comedy attempt at offering himself to Jim before sleep had stolen him.

Freddie’s head was resting softly against the back of the chair. A contented smile played around his bow shaped lips.

Jim dropped silently to his knees beside Freddie.

“Look at you baby” he muttered softly.

He pressed a careful hand to Freddie’s forehead.

Still warm.

Perhaps that was normal for Freddie. Despite always feeling the cold, maybe he was warmer to the touch than others. He exuded such energy.

Jim wouldn’t wake him to take his temperature. He could do that later.

“I told you that you were tired” whispered Jim, playing with a curl at Freddie’s temple. “You didn’t believe me though did you.”

Freddie shuffled as though suddenly disgruntled. His face scrunching in disapproval.

Jim fought the urge to laugh out loud.

“Are you sulking at me?!” Jim raised Freddie’s hand slightly, and watched amused as it flopped back onto his lap. “…you’re not even awake and you’re still poking that lip out at me. I still want to bite that lip, I have from the very first moment I set eyes on you.”

Jim spotted Freddie’s camera on the bedside cabinet.

Chuckling to himself he adjusted the focus, and took the shot. The photo appeared from the back of the camera with a groan of the spool. Jim shook the photo before taking a look.

Laughing softly, he held it up to a sleeping Freddie.

“There’s that lip. Now I can prove how tired and pouty you are.” Jim smiled again before arranging the photo next to Freddie’s kitten drawing beside the bed.

“That photo is just for us baby. I promise you will never see it in the newspaper” Jim whispered, crouching on the floor beside Freddie.

“You know sweetheart, you surprised me today. I thought you’d be hesitant, nervous, perhaps even a little clingy after what you have been through, but you were so excited to be there. It was such a good idea to go to the State of Liberty. Everybody enjoyed it, we’ll remember it all of our lives. If it weren’t for this rotten cold, it would have been the perfect day. Oh….and the other thing…” Jim dropped his head into his hands. “….that’s just me all over isn’t it. The perfect setting. The sun came out, just for us, it wasn’t like I didn’t have the perfect opportunity to give you your first birthday present. Not that I could drop to my knees and ask you to marry me darling - not in our lifetimes - but still, I would have loved to see your face. Instead it’s in my bleeding pocket. I’m such a coward. It’s just that….you’re not like anyone else on earth Freddie…not just to me, it’s not just bias, you’re special, and God knows why, but you choose me. I thank my lucky stars every day, and I’m dying to shower you in gifts, but I’m scared too baby – scared you’ll reject them – reject me.”

Jim drew his sleeve across his eyes when he realised they were damp.

This damn cold.

He needed some sleep.

Jim pulled himself up carefully. His joints aching from where he had been sitting on his legs.

He scooped Freddie up out of the chair. “Come on sweetheart, time for bed.”

Jim’s head swam as another wave of nausea hit him.

He didn’t normally struggle to lift Freddie, and he could see why this fever had felled Freddie and Roger.

A shrill scream knocked Jim off balance, followed by frantic blows connecting with his chest, and legs swinging wildly.

“No! I don’t want to” Freddie squealed in panic, as Jim struggled to shield him as the two men crashed painfully to the floor.

***************************

“What happened?” muttered Freddie, struggling to his knees, and rubbing his eyes with confusion.

His eyes widened when he saw Jim struggling for breath, winded from the fall. “Darling are you ok?” he shrieked crawling closer to his lover.

“Yes I’m fine sweetheart” said Jim, concern expediting his recovery. “What about you though baby? What was that about? You were really scared then darling!” Jim pulled Freddie closer with the ties to his kimono, looking deeply into his eyes.

“Where did you go?” he asked softly. “In that short time I was speaking to John at the door, where did you go in your head baby?” Jim whispered with concern. “There’s only us here. Who did you think was holding you?”

Despite the barrage of questions, not one appeared to land, and Jim watched astonished as Freddie’s entire demeanour changed literally before his eyes.

Freddie shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck, playing with the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck. He rested his hot forehead to Jim’s. “We’re on the floor again” he said suggestively, pressing soft urgent lips to Jim’s.

Jim wasn’t getting the truth from Freddie today, perhaps never.

The veil had been hurried drawn.

“Mmmmm we are” Jim growled in response, pressing his lips against Freddie’s, “…and I was putting you to bed.”

“Promises, promises” whispered Freddie, teasing Jim by pulling coyly away as Jim chased the kiss.

Jim growled in play.

Freddie squealed as Jim scooped him up and rose to his feet. “You’re all cock and long legs baby. There’s nothing else to you” he teased, gently dropping a scowling Freddie onto the bed.

“I know you like to burrow, but you still feel unnaturally warm baby, so do you just want one blanket – is that ok?” Jim asked.

Freddie smiled slowly. “You’re actually putting me to bed… in the daytime?” he asked astonished, scrunching up his nose.

Jim knelt onto the bed and pulled Freddie’s blanket loosely over his body, stopping to rub his nose on Freddie’s.

“Your blanket?” Jim checked.

Freddie nodded “My blanket.”

Freddie reached for the kitten drawing, pausing for a moment, before reaching out for the pencil on the bedside cabinet. He chewed thoughtfully on the end.

“Would you like some tea sweetheart?” Jim asked interrupting Freddie’s thoughts.

“Mmmm…” Freddie nodded before scribbling something down.

“I’ll just be a moment” Jim said, discretely rushing into the bathroom.

He closed the door softly before retching violently into the toilet.

Jim urged himself up onto his feet, sweat pouring from his brow, as he staggered to the basin.

He turned on the cold tap and plunged his hands into the icy flow. Wiping the refreshing cool water over his face, and allowing it to dribble down his neck.

Jim’s pallid reflection stared back him.

It was second nature - a well learnt skill - for Freddie to disguise his pain behind a well-placed mask.

Jim - who had just seen the horrified face of a small child snatched away in the night - would need a little longer.

**************************

Freddie awoke with a start.

It was as though a gun had been fired in his head.

He was sitting bolt upright when he opened his eyes, and it was seconds before he was reaching out for the song he had been working on when he had fallen asleep - again.

It was just words on a page.

There was nothing connecting the words.

Half-finished ideas.

Fragmented thoughts.

He needed to perform the song tonight. It would mean nothing if it wasn’t performed before they left America.

A half hearted sentiment.

Not meaningful enough to be said when the time was right.

“Jim!” Freddie cried weakly, when he realised he was alone in bed.

No answer.

“Jim dear, where are you?”

Silence.

Freddie glanced around the room for signs of his lovers.

There weren’t any.

The hook that Jim normally hung his jacket on was empty, and his keys and wallet were not on the bedside cabinet.

The room suddenly seemed very large.

Freddie had not stopped to observe their room since he had arrived in the New York hotel. He had only perused the bathroom with any real interest when he had been returned by the police.

Freddie shuddered.

He had been distracted by sickness, by the need to sleep, by eating schedules.

He hadn’t performed in three days.

Did his voice still even work?

Perhaps his gift was gone, and he wouldn’t be able to produce a note.

Freddie felt his throat thicken and panic seized him. In his mind’s eye, the audience booed and left the venue in disgust at their poor performance.

“Jim! Jim!” he cried. “I need your help. Where are you darling?”

Silence.

“Roger!!!!” Freddie cried helplessly, when Jim didn’t respond to his call.

He hadn’t spent nearly enough time with the band lately.

It had been a terrible idea that he share Jim’s room, he should be with the band.

They should be together now – arguing about which songs to perform and in what order. In what key Freddie should sing Brian’s songs, and what additional percussion Roger would need.

Deaky would be fussing about his trousers being far too tight, and Freddie would soothe him, telling him “you look edible darling” – and he really did!

They needed to practice.

Was there even a set list?

Where was their gear?

Where were their costumes?

This wasn’t Friday night at The Market Tavern. This was the final night in New York City.

What impression would Queen leave on America?

That of a band who got sick easily.

Who cancelled their appearances when they did get sick- at the inconvenience of those who paid money, and travelled far to see them.

Who the fuck was Freddie Mercury anyway?

His piano.

Freddie hadn’t thought about his beloved piano for days. He had left it at the mercy of the crew.

He needed to see it. It would be scratched to shit, and totally useless.

He needed to see it right now, to compose the song.

More than that he needed Jim.

How had that happened? How had he allowed himself to become so reliant on his lover – a liability who allowed himself to be kidnapped.

No wonder Jim was gone.

Freddie was always sleeping, or crying, or ill.

Why had he allowed Jim to see his pitiful side? Everyone hated it, and eventually hated him.

He was a baby.

My God, he bored himself!

He had to find Jim.

He had to show him.

Show him that Freddie Mercury was fun, he was worth it, that Jim was missing out.

Joe.

Jim hated it when he was close to Joe.

Jim would surely realise what he was missing if he saw Freddie with Joe.

Freddie shuffled to Jim’s side of the bed, picked up the telephone and dialed reception.

“Is Jim Hutton in the bar please?” he asked politely, tensing when the answer was negative.

“Have you seen him leave the hotel? Well he must be there – look again! Please!” Freddie insisted.

“What about Joe? Is Joe working in the kitchen today?”

“Tonight?! Where is he? Well….I know he worked all night but…..”

“Darling, don’t worry about that, I want my piano bringing to my room please.”

“You don’t have any beefy men working in this hotel??”

“Why is that unreasonable? I asked nicely. Look, I just don’t care!! I want my piano bringing up to my room five minutes ago! I need to work NOW” Freddie shrieked into the handset. “No! I DON’T want the duty manager dear, I can’t play him, I WANT MY PIANO!!!”

Freddie slammed the receiver onto the cradle, trembling with rage.

The room appeared to expand further, as it undulated in front of his eyes.

Was he completely alone in the world?

Freddie jumped when the clock struck 2pm. The chime striking his shredded nerves.

With a squeal he launched his cup and saucer at the wall. Momentarily satisfied when it shattered mid-air, and landed in a cloud of porcelain.

Freddie swung his legs over the side of the bed, curling his toes in rebuke as they made contact with the wiry carpet.

He didn’t like this hotel.

The carpet should feel soft under his feet.

The world swum before his eyes as Freddie slowly rose to his feet. His stomach growled, and he felt sick with hunger.

Freddie clutched his thin kimono tightly around his naked body as he made his way towards the bathroom. He pushed the door open gently, rubbing his eyes.

Suddenly his eyes were wide when he saw Jim. He was huddled around the toilet bowl, his head leaning awkwardly against the wall, his eyes closed.

“Jim! Oh my God, darling” Freddie shrieked as he rushed to his lovers side, crouching beside him and clasping Jim’s hand in his. “What happened?” Freddie cooed worriedly as Jim opened his eyes, and tried to stand.

“No, no!” shrieked Freddie. “You must stay down darling, I’m going to get help.”

Freddie leapt to his feet, and was gone before he heard Jim’s mortified calls.

Freddie ran down the corridor, his heart pounding in time with the padding of his bare feet on the carpet, his kimono trailing out behind him, like that of an anguished superhero.

Jim was sick. Jim was never sick. Jim was always so strong. This was all Freddie’s fault.

Freddie hammered on the neighbouring door with urgency.

The door opened a crack. Deaky had one eye open, and looked too like he had been caught napping.

“Jim’s sick” Freddie wailed “You’ve got to help me. Come on!” he urged, before turning and running back along the corridor, a rather more confused and sedate Deaky and Roger in his path.

Freddie crashed through the bathroom door, and fell back to his knees beside Jim. He took Jim’s hand in his own and carefully rubbed warmth back into it. “I’m so sorry that I had to leave you darling, but I’ve brought help - see?”

The boys were gathered in the doorway, each of them looking on with concern.

Jim waved them away weakly. “I was sick a couple of times, and I just rested my head for a minute. I’m alright. I can get up. No need for all this fuss.”

Jim shuffled onto his knees, chuckling with humiliated humour. “How many men do you think I need to help me up sweetheart?”

Freddie pressed his hand to Jim’s hot cheek. “You’re burning up darling!”

Jim caught Freddie’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Only because you’re so hot” he joked. “Come on baby, let me get up, I feel ridiculous.”

Freddie flapped his hands, dismissing Roger and Deaky from their posts so that Jim could pass.

Freddie linked his arm through Jim’s.

“Now come on darling” he fussed, as though escorting an elderly lady across the street. “Into bed. You have to stay there for the rest of the afternoon though. I have requested that my piano be brought to our room, so I can prepare for the show, and look after you dear” Freddie explained rationally.

Jim stood tall. “You did what?”

Freddie pulled back the duvet and straightened the sheet for Jim to climb in.

“Now don’t fuss dear, come on, get in.”

Jim cast an anxious glance towards Roger, who was barely holding back his laughter.

“Best do as your told Jim if you want Freddie off your case. He’ll only get worse if you argue.”

Jim rolled his eyes with a smile, climbing dutifully into bed to find himself instantly mummified in a cloud of duvet and blankets.

“Freddie, I’ll boil alive!” argued Jim. “Just the duvet is fine thank you, I’m roasting as it is.”

“Deaky” Freddie said sharply, making Deaky jump. “Jim’s hot, get him a cold flannel please now!”

Freddie removed the blankets and threw them into the padded chair, before wrapping his own blanket over Jim. “Ok…the duvet AND my blanket….this one is magic” Freddie winked, tucking his blanket neatly under Jim’s chin, and shrieking as the cold flannel was pressed into his hands.

Freddie crawled seductively alongside Jim, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and gently placing the cold cloth to his brow.

“There. You’re not to move now until you feel better” Freddie instructed more gently.

Jim looked down the length of his body, strapped in by a multitude of wrapped fabric. “Freddie! I feel like I’m in a strait jacket.”

Roger and Deaky quickly snapped their amused faces to order with a glare from Freddie.

*****************

There were two sharp raps on the door, and three men strode in.

John looked as though the devil rode in his wake, but it was only the elderly duty manager, and a very young porter.

“What’s all this shit I’m hearing about your piano?? It’s at the venue set up for tonight” yelled John.

“Come in” Deaky muttered sarcastically to Roger under his breath.

Freddie sprung from the bed onto his feet, fists clenched as though ready for battle.

“I want it here!” he shrieked. “I’m working on a new song for tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous man! We’re not moving your piano across the city so you can practice a new song. Do that when you’re back in London” snapped John, the matter settled.

“No!” Freddie screamed, stamping his bare foot, chin tilted in challenge. “I’m performing my new song tonight, and you can’t stop me!”

“What’s that…sorry….new song?” muttered Deaky. “We haven’t seen a new song.” He turned to Roger “Rog….have you seen a new song?”

Roger shook his head. “Nope, no new song from me. Freds?”

“I haven’t finished writing it yet, and you are all disturbing me!” Freddie cried, turning to the quaking hotel staff “BRING MY PIANO!!”

“We’ve got a set list!” reasoned Roger. “We don’t need any more songs for tonight.”

“They’re boring Rog! We always do the same. I want to perform my new song.”

“How are we supposed to keep up Fred? You haven’t finished it yet, we haven’t got time to learn it before tonight’s show. Don’t fuck it up on the last night!” implored Roger.

“Fuck it up??? You’re making me fuck it up, you’re wasting my time!” Freddie screamed stamping both feet in turn, Roger having awoken a guilty memory from the days of Paul Prenter.

Wearing a smug expression, Roger wrapped an arm around John, and the other around Jim, who had risen from the bed nervously. “Gentlemen, meet the real Freddie Mercury!”

John rolled his eyes with a sarcastic smile. “I’ve met this Freddie once before. He cost me a bleeding fortune.”

“Freddie you look like a screaming fish wife in that negligee” jibed John.

“Wife…look like a fucking wife do I? Wives have these do they?” Freddie pulled back his kimono, as Jim leapt in front of him in the nick of time to stop him revealing private parts of himself.

“Freddie!” Jim hissed, trying to reach out for his lover. He held up a hand to the bellboy as though he were a startled animal. “I’m so sorry, Freddie’s been unwell.”

Jim had seen Freddie like this once before – when Dr Atkinson had arrived at the house uninvited to assess Freddie’s inability to speak. Jim had been forced to restrain him then, he really hoped it wouldn’t come to that now.

“What’s going on?” Brian appeared in the doorway.

“The shoes are off Bri” joked Roger.

“What do you mean? ….Holy shit!!” Brian ducked as a platform shoe aimed for John narrowly missed himself and Roger. The shoe connected with a vase which promptly shattered, and joined the fragments of cup and saucer on the carpet.

“I think I prefer when he’s wearing the shoes!” muttered Brian. “That said it’s gonna be one hell of a night.”

Deaky nodded in agreement. The boys knew Freddie well –the more agitated he became in the build up to the show, the better the performance.

“Freddie has a new song” stated Deaky.

“Oh right” said Brian. “So why is he upset?”

“He’s performing the new song tonight” confirmed Deaky.

“Tonight??!” Brian looked at his watch. “Shit, fuck, bollocks. Come on lads. If we’ve got a new song, we need to get down to the venue now.”

“I’m not leaving Jim” stated Freddie. “He’s poorly.”

“Sweetheart, it’s fine” Jim soothed. “I can rest if I know you’re with the boys. I’ll come along in a couple of hours. All your costumes are ready and pressed. There’s nothing for you to worry about. Just go with them now and you can work on your song.”

“No! I’m not leaving you here alone” Freddie said more softly, a flash of tenderness creeping into his eyes. “If I hadn’t got sick….if I hadn’t been kidnapped….you would be well….it’s all my fault.” Freddie couldn’t quite meet Jim’s eyes, embarrassed by the flow of words he couldn’t seem to stem.

Jim stroked a hand down Freddie’s wild curls. “No baby, no. I got a cold – a virus – like you and Roger. It’s going around.” Freddie pushed his hand away, not ready to be soothed. Not believing it wasn’t his fault.

“Leave him be Jim” said Deaky nervously.

“How hard is it to get my fucking piano up here?!” stressed Freddie.

“Actually…” muttered the younger member of staff nervously “…there is a piano in the foyer…”

“What the fuck is it doing there?!” shrieked Freddie “Bring it up here!”

John turned to the hotel staff. “Can that be done?”

The men looked at each other, and nodded. “Yes, I don’t see why not. We’ll get a couple of the men in concierge to manoeuvre it into the lift.”

“Great – great news. Thanks lads” said John, as the men hurried towards the door, keen to be free of the tense atmosphere.

“Excuse me….young man” said Freddie politely.

The timid man turned nervously to face him.

“You’re helpful. I like you. What’s your name?” Freddie inquired, his face upturned and inquisitive.

“Hince sir….Peter Hince….but my friends call me Ratty” the young man dared to smile.

“Could you please send up a cleaner for the glass dear?” Freddie added sweetly “I’d hate for anyone to hurt their feet. Thank you Ratty.”

Ratty was thrilled when his smile was returned.

********************

A tense silence had fallen over the room when the piano was manhandled through the narrow room doorway, and shuffled into the only available floor space.

Brian, Roger and Deaky had been royally dismissed, and sent on their way to the venue to begin set up and sound check.

Freddie was huddled into the armchair.

His knees raised to his chin, as he balanced his songbook precariously, alternating between scribbling rapidly, and nibbling on the end of his pencil in concentration.

Freddie was oblivious to the anxious gazes Jim was bestowing upon him.

John hung around, not really sure what to do with himself.

Jim had obediently returned to the bed – not sleeping, or even resting - such was his concern for Freddie.

The duty manager did not return to the room, that unenviable task had been left to Ratty and two members of the concierge.

“Left a bit….up, up, you’re going to damage the leg!” cried Ratty with concern for the instrument, unaware of Freddie’s subtle interest in the men’s actions.

The piano finally in situ, the stool was plonked down with a flourish, and the two men straightened up breathlessly, brushing the dust from their white gloves.

Gracefully Freddie leapt from his knotted sitting position, and galloped excitedly over to the piano clapping his hands.

He subtly clutched biceps as he thanked the men profusely for their time and efforts – as though the denial of his request hadn’t been punishable by death, and had been a sweetly whispered suggestion.

“Now I must work!” declared Freddie, ushering the men towards the door.

“Oh John” Freddie said primly “would you give Ratty your card please?”

“Whatever for?” barked John.

“I think this young man has a future with the road crew. Would you like that Ratty? See the world from a mixing desk?” Freddie asked rhetorically.

The young man flushed scarlet, but he couldn’t disguise the smile that crossed his face from ear to ear.

“Knock, knock. Meals on wheels” Joe call brightly as he pushed a trolley laden with minuscule silver dishes through the narrow doorway, nearly running a very excited Ratty over on his way out of the room.

“It’s like a fucking parade in here!” complained John, but uncharacteristically he made no move to leave the room.

“Joe! Hi” Freddie called brightly, jumping up from the piano stool to give Joe a hug and a kiss to his cheek.

“Well you’re certainly looking better” Joe exclaimed with a bright smile. “We’ll have you back on Indian cuisine before you know it.”

“Can you feed me while I work?” Freddie asked casually, returning to the piano as though it was considered normal practice for one adult male to spoon feed another.

“I’m not feeding you Freddie” Joe laughed out loud “but I do have small portions of a number of simple dishes here, so if we lay the cloth on top of the piano, we can set out the dishes for you to pick at, but I want empty bowls!” Joe said sternly. “No empty bowls, or you’ll go to the hospital - capiche?”

Freddie laughed nervously. He’d never seen the business end of Joe Finelli. “You sound like Jim!” he wailed.

A wonderful sense of contentment settled over Jim as he watched the scene unfold before him.

John it seemed, did have a heart. He had no reason to be in the room other than to make sure his young charge was alright.

Joe was seated beside Freddie at the piano. Their heads bent close as Joe discussed Freddie’s nutrition with a surprisingly interested Freddie. Joe as passionate about the world of food, as Freddie the world of song.

Surprisingly, Jim felt no jealousy.

Once again he was overcome with feelings of gratitude, relief and fortune.

Every man in the room loved and cared for Freddie in their own way. Freddie was safe, and it would be alright if Jim closed his eyes for a moment or two.

*********************

Freddie closed the piano lid softly.

The song wasn’t perfect, and that irked him.

It was new.

It would evolve.

The boys would have their input.

They would work in the studio for hours - maybe even days - before the song was etched into vinyl, and entrusted to the annals of music.

Freddie allowed himself to imagine what the show would be like.

Seated at the piano, the spotlight on him.

He imagined himself brave enough to open his eyes, discreetly dodging the camera that always seems to be lodged on the piano top, and look at the audience.

Would they be as enraptured by the melody as he was?

Encapsulated by the meaning of the lyrics?

Would they fall silent to hear what he had to tell them?

Or would they be bored?

Silently praying for a drumbeat, or a chord to shriek from Brian’s guitar.

Freddie wanted the people to love the song, but it was different to the usual Queen format, different to what they expected.

There was only one person who he wanted to hear it – really hear it – every beat, ever silence, every word.

Freddie glance anxiously towards the bed, casting a loving eye over his poorly man. He was pleased when hazel eyes appraised him in return.

It was encouraging – if a little unexpected - to see Jim gazing at him so lovingly after the way he had behaved earlier.

Freddie rose from the piano stool and crept underneath his blanket, snuggling up close to his lover, nuzzling his cheek affectionately.

Freddie waited.

He counted the seconds.

Apprehensive of how Jim would react after seeing his ugly side, the side Freddie wished had stayed hidden.

He sighed dreamily when Jim wrapped warm arms around him, and pulled him closer.

Everything would be alright.

It would be ok tonight, when Jim heard his song.

Freddie secretly hoped Jim would be thrilled.

Freddie looked intensely into Jim’s eyes. “How are you feeling dear?”

Jim nodded clearing his throat “A little better thank you darling. I’m so sorry for letting you down.”

Freddie was astonished.

Jim was perfect.

Jim had never let anyone down in his life.

Freddie tucked the magic blanket tighter under Jim’s chin.

“You don’t need to apologise dear” Freddie said “I was EVIL!” he exaggerated.

Jim chuckled, but he didn’t deny it.

Freddie shuddered.

Maybe one of Jim’s talks was coming.

“I don’t think John likes me much” mused Freddie out loud into the silence.

Jim laughed loudly, and Freddie felt a small pang of rejection.

He didn’t like to be laughed at.

He shouldn’t have voiced his fear.

Freddie felt Jim’s grip tighten around him.

“John is a business man sweetheart, and you are his star buy” Jim soothed.

Freddie didn’t feel remotely comforted.

“He likes you Freddie. Maybe even a little too much huh….” said Jim with amusement.

Freddie felt his heart beat a little faster, and an unfamiliar need to tell Jim everything.

“We’re not….he doesn’t….there’s nothing….” Freddie normally had longer than this to prepare his words.

Freddie felt those arms hold him more securely, lips were in his hair.

“Freddie….” Jim began carefully. “I meant… John…you amuse him. He’s entertained by you. He thinks you are adoringly eccentric. He doesn’t know how to behave around you so he barks at you. He encourages by way of bullying. He knows your talent is a sure thing, but you as a person…..he doesn’t know how to support your talent.” Jim leant closer to Freddie’s ear and whispered “that’s why he pays me. I – of course – am here for love.”

Freddie tucked himself into Jim’s side, wrapping an arm around him, a faux pout forming on his lips.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you two talking about me” he said with a frown, secretly thrilled that he took up so much of the men’s time.

Jim laughed. “It’s all good darling. Now, shall I try and get my legs under me? We’ve got a show to go to.”


	36. Encounters: Shooting Star - Take my breath away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final show of Queen’s American tour is here, and Freddie is a little jittery. Jim finds a number of ways to distract him though – including a surprise proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it’s been a tumultuous week lovies where reader feedback has been concerned. From the heartbreakingly negative, to the humbling and flattering, but what this chapter has reminded me of is how much I love writing, and more importantly how much I adore these characters 😊 I also truly appreciate your feedback.  
In this chapter we hear a little more from John’s POV, and we learn about Joe. I hope you enjoy it!

Jim couldn’t resist opening the dainty velvet box to look at the ring one last time.

He would give it Freddie – one day.

He meant every part of the sentiment – to have and to hold, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.

Jim had only known Freddie for six months, and he felt he had already been through all of the above.

He snapped the pretty box shut, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been seen, and buried the box deep in the pocket of his rucksack.

“Jim, are you ready darling?” Freddie’s sweet voice rang out from the doorway.

“Coming sweetheart” he replied, zipping up the bag and hoisting it on to his shoulder, grimacing at the ever increasing weight as Freddie added little trinkets from everywhere he visited to adorn his dressing rooms.

Freddie’s blanket could no longer fit into the rucksack, so Jim carried it rolled up under his arm, should Freddie need it before or after the performance.

Jim’s mind wandered briefly again to his good fortune.

He had the best job in the world, serving the most beautiful man alive.

The rest could wait.

***************************

“Off!” Jim barked authoritatively, wagging a finger at Freddie, who had just clipped the braces into the studs on his waistband. “Shorts off now!”

“Why? What the fuck’s wrong with them?” Freddie wailed astonished. His mouth hung open, an anguished hand was in his hair.

He had spent hours with John Reid working through his creative ideas, drawing up the perfect design.

A professional tailor had hand sewn the shorts in seamless proportions for his body. Breathtakingly tight, but in a flexible fabric that moved when he did.

Freddie turned back to the mirror, running a hand over the curve of his buttock.

They fit perfectly.

Even better now that he’d lost some weight, remarked the ever present voice in his head.

“Off, off, OFF!” barked Jim.

Freddie stumbled backwards, a little apprehensive as Jim marched towards him.

“Why are you cross with me?” Freddie asked nervously, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

Jim felt himself soften, and a smile crept across his lips. It was easy to forget how timid Freddie could be - especially when he had been dealing with the tempestuous performer for the last few hours.

“I’m not cross with you silly” he said with a smile. “I can’t let you go out there looking like that without having you at least once” Jim stated firmly, pressing soft lips against a softer cheek.

Jim tucked his finger down the front of Freddie’s red and white stripped shorts, and pulled him urgently towards him, stumbling into an uncomfortable plastic chair in his haste, conveniently pulling Freddie over his lap.

Freddie squealed with laughter, which very quickly became shock when Jim slapped his bottom.

“Oooooh getting kinky are we old man!” Freddie teased, flicking his bare feet up to his buttocks.

Jim pulled Freddie upright by the seat of his shorts.

“What did you just call me?” he roared in fun. “You cheeky little whelp!”

Freddie’s laugh was pure evil.

“For that….” Jim began, sitting back in the chair and folding his arms across his chest “You can give me a private showing. Take them off!”

Freddie’s heart beat quickened, as he realised that Jim was serious. His showman laughter fading to schoolboy giggles, unable to keep the blush from his hot cheeks.

“I can’t.. I can’t!” he cried laughing.

Freddie dropped his gaze to Jim’s lips, raising his eyes slightly to give Jim his most seductive look. “You take them off?” he asked shyly.

Jim shook his head firmly, resisting the onslaught with a broad smile. “Nope. I want you to take them off in front of me….slowly.”

Freddie was used to giving a show – he thrived on it – but never in a brightly lit room, and never stone cold sober.

He staggered towards Jim, attempting to push his body close. To overwhelm Jim’s senses with his proximity, but Jim remained steadfast, pushing Freddie away with a laugh.

“Don’t come over all cute on me. Shorts down now, or they’ll be round your ankles and you’ll be over my knee” stated Jim with uncharacteristic boldness.

“Promises, promises” mumbled Freddie into the hand covering his mouth, never taking his amused eyes from Jim’s.

“Right, that’s it!” Jim shrieked as he pulled a squealing Freddie towards him by his braces, deftly unclipping them and yanking down the zip on his shorts.

Freddie felt a rush of blood to his head as he hurtled across Jim’s lap, head hanging, fingers grazing Jim’s ankles.

He felt a second rush, this time it was cool air, as his shorts tumbled to his own ankles.

“Mmmmm….that’s better” said Jim with a satisfied smile, sweeping his hand over Freddie’s buttock.

Freddie could barely mumble, but he made no move to resist.

He loved when Jim was masterful.

“So….old man am I? Not too old to show you a good time” Jim said, slapping Freddie’s bottom three times in succession.

Freddie squealed with shock at the impact, but he wasn’t hurt – not really – the smarting excited him.

He wanted more.

Poised for further impact, Freddie groaned loudly in surprise as Jim’s hand swept lower, cupping his balls, and reaching a hand along the length of his rapidly hardening cock.

Freddie felt gentle fingers dance across the skin of his back, and lips; soft lips place tender kisses. The other hand continued it’s journey, and Freddie felt every inch of his skin pique with sensitivity.

“So sweetheart you like things a little rough….” Jim teased, “I might have to take you in hand a little more often.”

The palm came down once more on Freddie’s buttocks; a little sharper this time.

“Take me in hand now if you like” tested Freddie breathlessly, shuffling impatiently so Jim could not miss the feeling of hardness on his knee.

Jim had often wondered why Freddie kept a bottle of baby oil in his toiletry case.

He had just found a use for it.

“No” said Jim firmly, reaching for the bottle. “I’m not gonna touch you. Not even if you beg!”

Freddie jumped with a squeal when a puddle of cold oil hit the skin of his buttocks.

He could hear Jim chuckling as he lightly slapped the oil on his skin making ridiculous sounds.

“Jim?” Freddie inquired softly “What have you got planned for me?”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna make you feel sooooooooo good” Jim promised, making Freddie tremble with anticipation.

A sudden concern caused Freddie to raise his head. “Don’t get oil on my shorts” he said firmly.

Jim massaged the oil into the reddening skin of his buttocks, taking his time in drawing little circles lower, and lower, and lower.

Jim chuckled. “I won’t get oil on your shorts sweetheart.”

Freddie squealed as the oil ran down into the folds of his skin, followed by Jim’s fingers.

“That’s exactly where I want it” said Jim, like the cat that got the cream, massaging softly into the sensitive areas of Freddie’s body, feeling him gently start to pulse in time with his fingers.

Jim ran his finger very gently around the opening, so gently as to be imagined, but Freddie’s body reacted.

“Please” Freddie whimpered.

“Oh, I don’t know darling, I’m enjoying teasing!” Jim mimicked Freddie’s evil laugh of earlier.

A finger pushed inside carefully, a little further with every circle of movement.

Jim leaned over Freddie’s shoulder, and whispered quietly into his ear. “How’s that?”

“More” Freddie gasped, as he body began to move in rhythm with Jim’s hand.

“No!” said Jim curtly. Enjoying every moment of his control. “In my time” he said, with softness this time.

Jim continued the light movement, watching as Freddie pushed back against his hand. He would allow him that small concession….for now.

“You like that don’t you?” gloated Jim.

“I like your cock more” quipped Freddie cheekily.

Jim carefully withdrew his finger before slapping Freddie’s bottom once more.

Freddie wailed in excited shock.

Jim leaned close and whispered “My time.”

Freddie whimpered.

Jim entered him again, less carefully this time, quickly seeking the sensitive spot that would drive Freddie wild.

He smiled smugly when he got a corresponding moan from Freddie. It seemed the light slapping had got him there quicker, and Jim tucked that thought away for future play.

Jim massaged lightly. Applying more pressure with every contact.

“So, as I was saying, you like that don’t you?” asked Jim determined to get some indication from Freddie that he was on the right track.

While he may not get direct answers to his questions during sex, Jim had noticed that over time the coy giggles had gone, and in their place were physical cues. Hint from Freddie’s body when Jim was exploring. It wasn’t words from his mouth, but it was a start.

Freddie gasped, attempting to shuffle his own hand down to touch himself.

“No!” said Jim, adjusting his position to block Freddie’s path.

“What’s the point of me telling you what I want if you don’t do it?!” gasped Freddie.

Jim couldn’t see Freddie’s face, but he knew he was pouting.

Gently Jim withdrew his finger once more, and slapped him a little harder.

Freddie cried out this time, and Jim became conscious of two things; his hand spanned the entire width of Freddie’s bottom, he probably should not be so forceful, and their location; security outside, and the boys in the next room. The last thing he wanted was a concerned party to burst into the room thinking Freddie was being assaulted.

Jim would concede.

He would give Freddie what he wanted – his way.

Jim poured some more of the oil onto Freddie’s hot skin, massaging it in carefully with circular movements, creeping devilishly closer.

This time Jim added a second finger, continuing the motion he had begun. He could feel the heat rising in Freddie’s body, his rhythm intensify, and the soft whimpers that he loved to hear coming from Freddie’s mouth.

“Touch me please!” Freddie begged.

“Nope. You’re young and fit and your body is incredible Freddie, this is enough. You can come from this” insisted Jim, starting to feel a little sorry for him…but not that sorry!

Freddie whined loudly as Jim started to pull out, before slamming repeatedly back into him, seeking the most sensitive zones to make him pant.

Jim could feel Freddie thrusting hard against his knee, trying desperately to achieve some satisfaction.

“I can’t! I can’t!” he wailed.

“You can darling!” Jim insisted, knowing instinctively he was just seconds away, and intensifying the pressure of his fingers.

Freddie cried out in frustration.

“Hang in there baby” soothed Jim, hoping his wasn’t torturing the poor thing too much. “Just a little more.”

Jim was almost as relieved as Freddie when he heard his satisfied cry, and felt the familiar tightening on his hand.

Jim had no idea what had possessed him to try that.

He wasn’t all that adventurous as a lover, perhaps this was the start of hidden pleasures to come.

*********************

Freddie felt limp as he lay over Jim’s lap.

Every inch of him felt warm and satiated. He could just close his eyes and drift away despite hanging upside down in this ridiculously posture.

There was something missing though.

Despite lying over his lap, with his appendages still inside of him – Freddie missed Jim.

He missed feeling close to the man, he missed whispered words in his ears, he missed lips against his, warm skin on skin.

Freddie suddenly felt bereft.

He wondered about the other men in his life.

There had been so many.

The one night stands, the pickups, the knee-tremblers down alleyways, and his memories suddenly felt vague.

He couldn’t remember if he had ever felt like this with those men.

If he had even felt close to them at all, close enough to miss them when they were not there, close enough to miss them when they were still inside of him.

He remembered a handful of satisfying sexual encounters - drunken ones, drugged ones, some that had come in spite of considerable pain.

Had they all missed their target so badly?

Had he even been aware there was a target besides physical gratification?!

Freddie winced as Jim removed his fingers.

“I’m sorry baby, I know you don’t like that” he heard from a distance.

Suddenly Freddie was being pulled upright. His limbs ached, and he didn’t feel in control of them. He was so tired.

“Come here” he heard Jim say firmly, as though instinctively realising something was not quite right. “One leg either side of mine. That’s it.”

Freddie found himself shuffled against Jim’s body, his head pressed against his shoulder, and he was enveloped by warm arms.

“Are you ok baby?” Jim asked softly, stroking a careful hand gently down Freddie’s hair.

Freddie nodded, his eyes firmly closed, but something wasn’t quite right. There was fabric between his skin and Jim’s.

Freddie scowled, before lethargically pulling his head upright, and unbuttoning Jim’s shirt. He untucked the shirt from Jim’s jeans and pushed both arms into the fabric, wrapping them tightly around his lover and pressing his face to Jim’s chest.

He inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent of his lover’s skin.

The chest rumbled with a deep chuckle.

“You’re like a baby” Jim teased lovingly, wrapping his arms tightly around Freddie.

Freddie stiffened as the unkind words cut him to the quick, and he was horrified to feel the prickle of tears in his eyes.

He was a baby.

He’d been told so all his life, and non- too kindly. It must be true.

His college classmates had given him the nickname Freddie baby whenever he mentioned his dreams of stardom. His St Peter’s dorm mates had called him a baby when tears of frustration and fear had finally overwhelmed him. His masters had called him a baby when the tears fell before the cane connected with his body.

Instinctively Jim held him closer.

“I’m sorry baby. I shouldn’t have done this to you before the show. You’re tired now aren’t you?” he said, misunderstanding Freddie’s disquiet.

“We’ve got time yet sweetheart” Jim whispered softly. “Just rest a while. That’s it. Close your eyes.” Jim pressed his lips to Freddie’s hair.

“I haven’t hurt you have I?” Jim inquired concerned.

Freddie shook his head.

“You wouldn’t tell me if I had would you” Jim muttered rhetorically.

“Enough talk” Freddie whispered with a secretive smile upturning the corners of his mouth.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Knock, knock” muttered Brian politely as he pushed the door open. “Have you seen the white nail polish, it’s not in my…..oh my God!” he shrieked, clasping a hand over his eyes. Brian promptly turned and ran from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Freddie leaped up from Jim’s lap, wiping his eyes as he danced with laughter.

“What?” said Jim with a confused smile, reaching for Freddie’s hands.

“How would that have looked to Brian?” shrieked Freddie. “My naked arse straddled across your thighs?!”

Freddie was bent double now, howling with laughter.

Jim clapped his hands over his eyes. “Ahhh shit” he said, jumping up and striding towards the door. “I’ll go get him.”

Freddie laughed harder, pointing at Jim’s thighs. “Don’t you think you should change your jeans first?”

Jim looked to where Freddie was pointing. The consequences of his actions with Freddie earlier too evident.

Jim looked at Freddie, his amusement contagious, and Jim began to laugh too.

“Come on you, back in the shower. We need to get all that oil off you. I could do with a tidy up too” he chuckled.

*****************

Jim clasped his hands behind his head as he perused the beauty before him.

Freddie was almost ready to perform.

He pressed his lips together, blotting the navy lipstick he had applied rather too thickly. He had just been going for a tint of blue he had explained to Jim.

His beautiful eyes made to look enormous with kohl liner, and copious layers of mascara.

His hair had been backcombed into a fluffy cloud, adorning his beautiful face. The volume was coming easier since his hair had been cut, Freddie had explained.

The braces were clipped into place. Jim had promised he would sit on his hands this time when the shorts were back on that edible body.

Freddie surveyed his appearance with a critical eye, and one perfectly shaped eyebrow was raised.

“I love you” muttered Jim with certainly.

“No you don’t!” snapped Freddie. “I’m atrocious.”

“You’re beautiful” affirmed Jim, acknowledging the pre-show jitters had taken hold.

“I can’t go on. Someone else will have to sing” Freddie said with finality, turning away from his offensive reflection.

“You can, and you will” assured Jim, clasping his hands. “They love you, and I love you, and you love them, so you won’t let them down.”

“I’m hideous!” Freddie mumbled, close to tears.

“You’re an angel” said Jim gently with a smile.

“I’m fat!” cried Freddie.

“You’re a whip slim angel under one gorgeous costume layered on top of another” rationalised Jim.

“I’m losing my voice” said Freddie sadly.

“Your voice is like honey sweetheart. You’re just scared.”

“I hate you!” shrieked Freddie, wrestling his hands free.

Jim sniggered, amused by Freddie’s passionate outburst. “Shall I take you over my knee again?”

“You never let me win” Freddie pouted

“You won my heart sweetheart” Jim said sweetly.

Suddenly there was a vicious pounding on the door. It was John Reid.

“For fucks sake Freddie the band are already on stage!!!!” he yelled.

Freddie took one last look in the mirror, and a strange serenity settled over him.

It was time.

He smoothed a hand over his shorts, nodded curtly at his reflection and wrapped the kimono around himself.

*******************

John raised his fist to knock once more, when the dressing room door opened, and there he was.

Although initially surprised by the question, John was grateful that Freddie has asked him to accompany him to the tailors. Seeing the man in his dressing gown this close to the performance would otherwise have unnerved him greatly.

His make up was thick and garish.

The vision of a terrified and slightly possessed Pierrot doll up close, but John was in no doubt that he would look majestic under the glare of stage lighting, and those ebony eyes would hypnotise even those at the very back of the auditorium.

John ruffled Freddie’s hair as he ushered him out of the dressing room.

It felt soft under his fingertips, and John was oddly relieved that there was something of the man he had grown to know peeking out from inside the hard technicolour shell of the performer; a certain softness that could only be Freddie.

“Are you ok Freddie?” John asked shyly, astonished to find himself cowed in the presence of a superstar.

Freddie nodded, and clapped his hands together firmly like a boxer psyching himself up for battle.

“Feel good – yeah?” John asked again, just to check.

“Yep” said Freddie curtly, exhaling loudly and wiping his hands down his kimono. “Where’s Roger?”

“On the stage darling. We’re all ready for you” said John, himself dazed by the softness in his own voice.

“Next time I want five minutes with the band before we go on” Freddie declared.

John didn’t contradict him.

He didn’t remind Freddie that actually it was he that was late.

John could see the nerves, but this was different.

These were not the nerves of the recently released kidnapped.

Nor those of a trembling flower nestled timidly under the wing of his lover.

Freddie was an incendiary device charged to blow.

A Catherine Wheel who’s crackling fuse was a frisson away from catching fire.

If Freddie didn’t perform now, he would implode.

Born of determination, formed within rigid walls of intolerable fear, nothing less than the best would ensure his survival.

John had nurtured many budding artists, but it was becoming obvious to him that this man –this band – had something extra. Something John had never seen before.

It gave him a queasy confidence, and a fear that gnawed away in his stomach like an ulcer.

The fire flying from Freddie’s eyes was too easily turned inwards, and if he didn’t learn to control it, it could be his untimely demise.

The three men made their way down the corridor at a march.

The soft padding of Freddie’s feet on the stone floor at a contrast to the usual thudding of those dreadful platform shoes he never seemed to have off his feet.

His true stature was a genuine surprise.

John found himself momentarily distracted by the prettiness of Freddie’s feet.

The man was a beautiful mess.

He was a work of art – a gallery exhibit that had somehow found himself living and breathing in a crude, harsh world.

An indoor Azalea who had been wrongly planted on a mountainside – battered and beaten by all who rustled carelessly passed him – but he was far from weathered.

John turned his attention to the man who stood beside Freddie. The man who was brave enough to shelter Freddie, and tend to his petals.

There were days such as this that John was green with envy.

Then there were the other days – the days that John surmised that Jim wasn’t brave at all, but was perhaps rather stupid.

John had lived hard enough to realise that a romantic entanglement with this rare beauty would be his own untimely demise.

It was time to get back to work.

“Hutton. The band are on stage, but can’t be seen right now in a cloud of smoke, and the lights are down. Crystal is stage left. You will escort Freddie to stage right, and remain at your post until he comes off the stage. Brian and John’s security are out front with the team. DO NOT interfere with their operation. Freddie will be marked at all times on stage, until he’s back to you.”

“Freddie. Everything is wired and ready to go as decided at sound check. Your mic will be handed to you by the roadie on your right as you enter the stage. It’ll be a standing start. The first foot you set on stage will cue lights and sound, be ready.”

The men stopped short of the stage stairs.

The roar of the crowd hit them like a wall of sound, as the compare riled the audience.

A roar that would have knocked anyone back but Freddie. John recognised the look in his eye. He didn’t hesitate, falter, or grapple to his lover for the last few seconds he was metered out. Freddie was out of the trap like a colt determined to win his first race.

John should have felt proud, but atavistically he had never been in any doubt that Freddie would seize the day, and run like a mad man.

Out of the corner of his eye John saw Jim leap forwards towards the stage.

“Holy shit! How many people are out there?” he gasped breathlessly.

John pushed a firm hand to Jim’s chest. “Hutton! Stop!” He relaxed when Jim immediately stopped in his tracks. The man had achieved the impossible.

“Well done Jim!” he said proudly with a smile, and a brotherly clap to his back. “You’ve done your job, you got Freddie to the stage. Now it’s time to let him work.”

The lights dazzled everyone as the opening bars of Now I’m Here struck.

John could see Roger’s palpable relief at the sight of his best friend entering the stage looking majestic. Brian’s head was bowed, as though he had been praying. Deaky’s stance was wide.

Bright it on.

John felt an insistent tapping on his shoulder. He turned to see a besuited Asian gentleman at his elbow. “John Reid? May we have a word in private please?”

***********************

“Good evening lovies!” Freddie declared regally to a delighted audience.

Jim laughed out loud at Freddie’s use of Doreen’s favourite word. Memories of that dreadful night melting under the intense glare of stage lights, and overwhelming sound.

“How are you feeling tonight? Ready for some fun?”

Another roar for the barefoot beauty in his dressing gown, who was prowling along the front of the stage. One elegantly extended foot falling perfectly in front of the other, like a panther assessing his offerings.

Stopping suddenly and turning on the ball of his foot, Freddie dropped his gaze and brought the microphone close as though talking to his friends in the living room.

“Now some of you may have been hearing rumours about a certain frontman being snatched this week? True? Well, it takes more than that to keep me off the stage darlings. I wish the young man involved a speedy recovery.”

Freddie strode confidently towards his piano. His face softening momentarily as he winked cheekily at Jim watching in the wings, before playing the opening bar to Seven Seas of Rhye.

Time stood still for Jim as he watched the full spectrum of his lover unfolding on stage.

That was his man up there.

The gifted vocalist, the talented pianist, and that lovable charm that had a foreign audience hanging onto his every word.

Jim had been wrong about Freddie – he’d been wrong about Queen – they were not going to be great, they were going to be magnificent!

Rising stars in the making, at the very beginning of their vast opportunity.

Freddie was just 21 years old.

He had his whole life ahead of him.

His future could be set, if he so decided.

It pained Jim a little to think of Freddie’s future. Would he be in it?

It was a tall order to expect to be.

Freddie was a raw talent, naturally gifted, his talent would out no matter where he found himself in life. Jim was just the man who ran alongside him, holding his blanket.

Jim smiled to himself, and lovingly squeezed the blanket that he forgot he had been holding. The blanket he feared to put down in case it got lost.

That would be pandemonium.

It was hard to imagine that the man up there would ever need anything so banal. That version of Freddie didn’t need anyone.

Perhaps that was the point.

He could know this Freddie, the public Freddie, but they could not know the private Freddie. The Freddie that cried out in fear in the night. The one who clung tightly to Jim when he was nervous or unwell.

Jim doubted anyone knew all of Freddie, and that unnerved him. Freddie knew all of him. Freddie held all his heart in his pretty little hand.

Was he the right man for Freddie? Was there someone else out there who Freddie would allow to see all of him?

Jim had bought Freddie the ring as a birthday gift. Something pretty to have on his finger that would make him smile during the dark moments. Something unique, like him.

Jim was in no doubt that he was fooling himself. If the ring really was just a birthday gift then why wasn’t he wearing it tonight? Why was it lurking suspiciously in the bottom of Jim’s rucksack?

If the law allowed two men to marry, would Jim even be contemplating giving Freddie the ring right now.

Looking at that man out there. That wild beauty who could have his pick of everyone.

Would it be right to tie him down when his opportunities were abound?

Would monogamy make him happy?

If Freddie was a woman, could he approach his father and ask for his hand in marriage?

“Fuck, they’re fantastic!” Despite the noise, Joe’s voice made Jim leap out of his reverie.

“I forget you have never seen them play before…” Jim ran a hand through his hair “…fuck, have we only known you a week?!”

Joe’s laughter boomed in his chest.

“It’s been an eventful week!” he said, still chuckling. “The lads are all so modest, and rarely seem to talk about their work over dinner. I never dreamt they could get this sound together!”

“Freddie’s been so ill, and yet somehow he sounds better tonight than he’s sounded on the whole tour” said Jim. “He just keeps on surprising me.”

“He’s not drank himself hoarse for a few days – that might help” Joe chuckled at his own joke.

The boys watched Freddie blow a kiss to his adoring fans as he sensually slipped the kimono off his shoulders to Big Spender, revealing the shorts to an audience roaring with appreciation.

Joe howled with laughter. “He’s a tart! How did you bag him anyway?”

Jim couldn’t be sure if Joe was looking for a story, or a set of instructions. On this occasion Jim gave him the benefit of the doubt.

It was Jim’s turn to laugh loudly.

“Oh mate! That is a very very long story. Patience, persistence, and everybody else fucking up I think.” Jim felt tired just thinking about the days and nights he had longed for Freddie.

“How long have you been together?” Joe continued his line of questioning.

Jim rolled his eyes with a smile “Ooooh, at least ten years” he said non-committedly, keen to get the conversation away from Freddie’s private life. “How about you Joe? Is there a special man in your life?”

“I’ve got a few girlfriends” Joe offered brightly with a knowing smile.

“Oh….oh…” blundered Jim. “I am sorry, I thought you were…. are you bisexual?”

Joe laughed loudly. “What I am Jim is greedy. Food is the love of my life. I’m studying at Cordon Bleu, when I’m qualified I want to get my experience travelling the world, so I can be a gourmet chef one day. I see so many men my age tied down with their women…children too….that’s not my bag. To answer your original question, I prefer men for sex, but I like to shake it up a little if you know what I mean. Time and place Jim. One day I’ll meet that special person, like you did Freddie, and I’ll never let them go.”

*******************

Freddie preferred not to think and perform at the same time.

He did all his thinking during preparation, all the logistics during sound check, the performance was the time for performing.

Brian had once described Queen’s music as flowing through Freddie on a cosmic force field. Sometimes the field seemed too large for him, often too forceful, leaving him a quivering wreck when the show was over.

Freddie considered himself too dumb to question Brian’s scientific analyses, but in this moment he did feel that he was held in a cosmic bubble, hovering just above the stage, terrified that the presence of thought would be the metaphorical pin.

He wandered over to the piano. His body carrying him dutifully even though he knew what he was about to do could change everything.

The song wasn’t written fully.

It wasn’t rehearsed.

He had the best friends in the world, agreeing to sit back and allow him to take centre stage.

If he screwed up, they may not be offered any more gigs.

This was totally out of character.

Freddie was a perfectionist, telling anyone who would listen never to do anything in public that hadn’t first been rehearsed in private.

But here he was - in the right place.

It was time.

Freddie’s heart thumped as he watched his right hand tickle the piano keys to get the attention of the audience.

They too must have sensed the shift in energy. The proverbial dropped pin could be heard.

Freddie was astonished when his own voice rang out without a quiver.

“Lovies, I’d like you to listen to this next song very carefully, and I hope you can have a little patience with us because it was only finished this afternoon. This number is very dear to me, and I’d like to dedicate it to someone without whom I’m sure I would not be alive today.”

Freddie paused for dramatic effect, finding Jim’s eyes in the darkness “…..this is for you darling.”

Freddie took a deep breath, and began to sing.

“Look into my eyes and you’ll see I’m the only one. You’ve captured my heart, stolen my love, changed my life…..”

*****************

Jim plunged his hand deep into his pocket scrambling around desperately for his handkerchief as the tears rolled freely down his cheeks.

It was there.

It was all there, and Jim immediately recognised the words from the note that had been retrieved from the site of Freddie’s kidnap.

The song told a tale.

It was his and Freddie’s tale.

A tale of fear, of distrust, of loneliness and abandonment.

It was how Jim had felt thinking Freddie had found someone else.

It was how Freddie had felt lost and alone thinking Jim didn’t want him anymore.

Freddie was finally talking about his fears and experiences, and his love….love for Jim!

His brave boy had done it – in front of an audience of thousands – using the only method of communication he had confidence in – his music.

The audience were silent until the very last note. Bursting into rapturous applause the moment Freddie leapt from the piano stool as though it had stung him.

Suddenly the stage lights brightened, breaking the spell as Roger, Brian and Deaky had broken away from their formation to envelope their friend in a team hug before the set was even over.

“Don’t stop me….?” Freddie mumbled, suggesting another departure from the rehearsed set. The boys eyes brightened with excitement nodding their agreement furiously. Life was anything but predictable with Freddie Mercury.

********************

Jim watched in awe as Freddie opened the final number of the show with ease and vigour, while re-assessing his own situation.

“What the fuck was he doing? Other than fucking it all up! Freddie had told him to his face a few nights ago, he wanted love and security – and family – something to tie them together with permanence. Freddie may have been delirious then, but he wasn’t now. Why was the ring still in Jim’s bag, and not on Freddie’s darling little hand?!

Freddie had made it clear that he wanted Jim, who was Jim to question that? He needed to seize his opportunity… this second!

Jim turned on the spot, and began to run back to the dressing room as quickly as he could, he heard Joe yelling in his wake. He needed to be there the moment Freddie got off the stage. It was vital that he was the first person Freddie saw.

Jim was through the fire doors and sprinting down the corridor, nearly knocking the security guard on the boys’ dressing room door off his feet.

He became aware that he was still clutching Freddie’s blanket. He needed both his hands for the task ahead.

He passed the blanket as though it was a rugby ball to the unsuspecting guard.

“Terry, please put that in the boys’ dressing room. It is to stay under lock and key under punishment of death” instructed Jim with comedic seriousness.

Terry sniggered “What is it Hutton?”

“The crown jewels” replied Jim over his shoulder, as he fenced with the keyhole into Freddie’s dressing room.

The moment he was in, he crashed heavily to his knees, grasping his rucksack and shaking the contents vigorously out onto the floor, until he saw the flash of claret.

He seized the velvet box. Flicking the lid open one last time to make sure the contents were perfect to present to a King…or Queen.

The beautiful ring sparkled with a vivacity that Jim hadn’t noticed before, as though the inanimate object was granting it’s blessing for Jim’s quest.

The boys were taking their bow when Jim returned to stage right. Arms clasped firmly around each other’s shoulders, Roger’s drumsticks raised in the air in prowess. The audience’s applause threatening to bring the house down.

Jim could barely draw breath, his heart thumping louder than Roger’s drumbeat had ever been.

“Hutton…” said John having returned to the stage side “….we need a team chat when the band get off.”

Jim barely heard him.

Freddie was coming.

His cheeks pink with pleasure and exertion, his arms thrown casually around Deaky.

John and Jim surged forward at the same time, blocking Freddie’s exit from the stage.

John spoke a fraction of a second earlier “You’re not going home tomorrow, you’re flying to Japan to start your next tour, you’re headlining.”

Jim dropped to one knee, the claret box raised “Marry me.”


	37. Encounters: Shooting Star - Thunderbolts and Lightening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disaster strikes during what should have been Jim’s moment, and Deaky is whisked off to the hospital. Later Jim finds himself the centre of Freddie’s attention – will he win his prize?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovies have you missed our boys? I surely have. This chapter took me in so many directions – many of which I didn’t consider at all before pen went to paper. I have tried to take into account the customs of the time, as well as how both Freddie and Jim’s belief systems may have developed in their respective cultures. There are some strong character traits too :) Let me know what you think darlings. Enjoy!

“Hutton, get up you pillock!” barked John.

Jim staggered to his feet, as he saw it all happen in slow motion.

“Get off the fucking stage!” screamed Mott.

Brian and Roger’s attention was still on the audience as they ran waving to the crowd, realising too late that their exit from the stage was blocked.

Jim saw Roger’s arms high in the air, drumsticks flailing as he ran into the back of Freddie, flicking him off the stage like a bowling pin.

Jim launched himself, sending John crashing to the ground as he plucked Freddie out of the air, cushioning him to his body for the second time that day as they hit the ground.

Brian’s tall head loomed over all of them, as he flew through the air, grabbing at the thick stage curtain to prevent himself from plummeting to the hard floor beneath.

All looked on in horror as Deaky tumbled from the top step to the bottom, hitting each one with a sickening thump.

Every man who was able jumped to his feet, but it was too late.

It had happened, and Deaky lie unconscious at their feet. His body cushioned only by a prone John Reid, and a heap of guitars.

Mott struck their first chord, cutting off the ability to communicate in a wall of sound.

Terry rushed onto the scene, instantly sending Ratty to find a medic.

Grasping his knee painfully, Brian crawled across the floor to Deaky, and attempted to arrange his body into the recovery position, only to be halted by Jim, frantically ordering him not to move Deaky until he had been checked for a spinal injury.

Freddie fell to his knees.

His face screwed up in anguish as he squeezed Deaky’s hand to his heart. Muttering reassuring words that could not be heard over the band, and the sound of half a dozen frantic men.

Jim grasped the other hand, failing completely to find a pulse over the throbbing beat.

To everyone’s relief the medics arrived quickly.

Despite Jim’s first aid training, he was dispensed with politely, and made to wait beside Freddie, who he encouraged back into his kimono, and squeezed tightly to his body, despite being in public.

The medics quickly triaged the team, prioritising Deaky and strapping him to a spinal board.

The boys watched helplessly.

There was nothing they could do for their injured friend, but wait and pray that he opened his eyes.

Suddenly Freddie grasped Jim’s shirt in his fists. “Jim, please darling go to the dressing room and get some clothes for Deaky. He’s so self-conscious in his stage costume, he needs to wake up in something comfortable.”

“I’m not leaving you sweetheart” Jim reassured him. “The doctors need to look after Deaky now, and I’m here for you.”

“No! I’m going to the hospital with Deaky. Go get the bag now!” Freddie demanded.

Jim locked eyes with Brian, silently pleading for help with his determined lover.

“Freddie, Deaky will be having tests” Brian reasoned. “We’ll visit him later together when he wakes up, and take him some nice things.”

“We’re all worried darling, but we’ll just be in the way” said Jim gently. “Let the doctors do their jobs hey?”

“You’ve got a press conference now Freddie” said John, rubbing his elbow, ever conscious of schedule. “Jim will go with you to the hospital in an hour.”

“No!” Freddie cried angrily, stamping his bare foot. “Deaky doesn’t know anyone at the hospital. I won’t let him wake up surrounded by strangers!”

“Darling…” Jim started, not knowing how to continue.

“Whoever is coming, needs to come now. We need to assess John for head injuries” said the medic.

“Jim, get Deaky’s things! Meet me at the hospital” demanded Freddie grasping Deaky’s hand.

“Freddie I promised I would never leave you, and I won’t let you go alone now” Jim said anxiously, realisation dawning that he would lose this battle.

“Please darling for Deaky. You’re the only one who know what he needs. Brian and Roger have the press conference. I’ll be fine with the doctors” pleaded Freddie bravely.

Jim appraised his lover. Quaking from head to toe. Barely dressed. Standing tall. His feet wide. His chin raised.

Jim wouldn’t win.

Freddie’s friend was more important to him than Jim’s fear, or his own

“Please, just do as I ask” Freddie snapped. Jim feared he was on the verge of tears. “Get Deaky’s things, follow us in a taxi.”

The medics lifted the board with a wan looking Deaky strapped in tight, but Freddie still refused to release his hand.

Jim felt like the proverbial rabbit caught in the headlights.

His instinct to be with Freddie so strong, but his respect for his lovers’ wishes urging him to let go.

Terry snatched the ring box from the floor and pushed it discreetly into Jim’s hand, along with the dressing room key. “I’ll go with him Jim. I’ll not take my eyes off him.”

Reluctantly Jim let Freddie’s hand drop, but his eyes did not leave Freddie’s pleading ones until the moment he turned to run alongside Deaky, never stopping the stream of reassuring words tumbling from his mouth like a prayer.

******************

Jim felt like he had been jump started.

He raced down the corridor towards the dressing room.

Please God, let Deaky be alright, he pleaded silently as every foot fall reverberated in his head.

What felt like moments ago, Jim had run down the same corridor in his rapturous hurry to make Freddie his.

Had Freddie even seen the ring?

Did he even understand why it was being offered to him? Or had the moment been lost in the melee?

Jim felt himself losing control of his own breathing, as the adrenaline rushed through his veins. He couldn’t help but wonder how Freddie would cope. Jim knew instinctively that Freddie would feel alone until Deaky opened his eyes and grasped his hand.

He contentiously hoped that Freddie was too concerned for Deaky to feel the familiar wave of panic that he himself was experiencing.

Jim knew that Freddie would remain strong. That he wouldn’t break down among strangers - despite his disposition.

Jim crashed through the dressing room door.

He instantly grasped the one thing he recognised - Freddie’s blanket.

The room begin to spin around Jim, as he assessed the tumble of fabric from a distance. A few things starting to fall into logical order in his mind.

Brian’s clothes were longer. They were also hanging neatly.

On the bench, to the right of Brian’s things were a number of garments – some rolled up, some screwed up. There was a pair of sparkly pink Converse trainers kicked beneath the bench. Jim quickly checked the size, they were much too small to be Deaky’s.

So, the stuff to the left must be Deaky’s.

Jim gathered an overflowing black rucksack and began pushing the things back inside.

Blue denim jeans, a shirt, a tank top. There was a pair of clean socks, still with the tags on – they also went in the bag. Jim pushed the last two remaining pairs of shoes into the straining back pack before yanking the zip around.

He straightened up, patting his pocket to make sure the ring was still in situ, pulling the ruck sack onto his back, and with Freddie’s blanket rolled up under his arm, he dashed out of the door.

The familiar plea running continually through his mind. Deaky – please be alright.

*********************

Freddie sunk into his chair as he watched Deaky be wheeled from the room.

The events of the last few hours finally sinking in as time seemed to slow, and his vision shrunk to the trembling hands that covered his face.

A loud beep wrenched Freddie’s attention back into the room, as a patient was rushed past the open door, followed by a gaggle of nurses teetering on high gloss floors, holding various life sustaining instruments aloft.

Freddie looked around the room taking in the empty bed, the white walls, and the absence of soft furnishings.

It seemed he was somewhere else – another time, another place, another hospital. The sights, the sounds, and certainly the smell was the same regardless of time or place.

Another injury. Another disgrace. Another scar.

Freddie pulled his knees up to his chin, curling as small as he could in the uncomfortable chair.

His feet – still bare – caught his attention.

They were filthy from the journey, and cold – so cold - turning an impossible shade of mottled yellow and blue.

Dismissing yet another discomfort, Freddie hurriedly tucked his feet beneath him out of sight. He wouldn’t feel the cold if he didn’t have to look at them.

He pulled the flimsy silk of the kimono tightly around himself. Covering as much flesh as the sheer fabric would allow. Protecting his skin from the sterile air of the hospital, which he had hoped would never touch him again as long as he lived.

The beat in his head was Roger’s.

The reliable almost tangible thud of the drumbeat.

Freddie counted the beats as Jim had taught him to count his breaths. The next one becoming better, safer, and taking him further away from his fears.

In, out, in, out. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four.

On the stage, the beat prepared Freddie for his role, for what came next.

Would it prepare him in life?

It was a welcome distraction from the nausea that caught at the back of his throat.

Why had Jim said that?

****************************

Jim felt a wave of relief rush through him when he finally saw Terry standing outside a side room door like a sentinel.

He felt like he had covered every inch of the hospital, looking for a glimpse of any one of them – even stopping at the hospital shop to gather his faculties and make a spontaneous purchase – something he seemed to be becoming a dab hand at.

Terry raised a relaxed hand in a wave when he saw Jim, pointing to the open door. “He’s in there.”

Jim didn’t know if to be relieved or distraught when he saw Deaky being wheeled out of the room into the corridor.

He was still lying flat on his back, a brace on his neck preventing him from raising his head in Jim’s direction, but Jim was delighted to see that he was conscious and alert.

Deaky reached out a hand connecting with Jim’s in a high five. “My bass?” he asked.

Deaky’s grip was surprisingly strong, and he almost seemed to be trying to reassure Jim, rather than the other way around.

“Your instruments are being cared for Deaky” Jim said in the most reassuring tone he could muster. “You can’t think about that now. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine Jim. This is all rather silly…..and more than a bit embarrassing” he said with surprising focus.

“I’m sorry. I got in the way. I….”

“Don’t you start!” Deaky interrupted. “He’s blaming himself in there!” he signaled towards the room with a roll of his eyes. “Go and sort Freddie out. I’m going for an x-ray – totally unnecessary!”

Jim patted Deaky’s shoulder. “Good luck mate. We’ll be waiting.”

******************

Jim faltered in the doorway when he saw him, although he should have felt more apprehensive than he did.

His thoughts should have been racing from one outcome to another, instead Jim’s heart raced – not with anguish, or anxiety – but with the rush of warmth, the rush of love that assured him he had done exactly the right thing in asking Freddie to be beside him always.

What is the first thing he should say though?

Jim had never considered himself to be very witty.

How do you follow ‘marry me’, when the question had been left hanging?

Freddie had his back to Jim.

He looked so small, scarcely an adult curled up in the chair beside Deaky’s empty bed. His head bowed as if in prayer.

Jet black hair fell dramatically onto fabrics in orange and pink.

Momentarily, Jim wondered if Freddie had planned his first words.

Jim quietly dropped the rucksack on the ground.

Silently unraveling Freddie’s blanket, he wrapped it gently around his lover’s slim shoulders.

Freddie clutched at the ends as though he was adrift, and the blanket was a lifeline.

“Darling” Jim said softly, crestfallen that he should find the man he loves not resting as he had originally appeared - but battling for calm.

Freddie wrinkled his nose, and squared his shoulders, determined to hang on to his dignity.

To show Jim that he could be strong.

“It’s the smell” he conceded. “I can’t stand it. Deaky’s gone, and I’m just….on my own in a hospital.”

“I know” said Jim reassuringly, “…and you were so brave. Coming to the hospital on your own.” Jim shook his head. “What are we going to do with you sweetheart?! You’re a fierce friend, but you push yourself so hard!”

Suddenly slim arms were around Jim’s waist, and a face was buried against his stomach.

“Oh Jim!” Freddie cried. “I couldn’t not come. It’s so awful! Deaky is so hurt. You should see him just lying there on the bed. Why would you ever want to marry me? Why?”

Jim’s heart leapt into his throat. His words had been registered after all.

Jim held Freddie close for a moment, rubbing his back soothingly, before pushing him gently back into his chair, and taking both of Freddie’s cold hands into his warm ones.

“Deaky is going to be fine Freddie. I’ve just spoken to him in the corridor” Jim said with a certainty he hoped would infuse into Freddie’s consciousness.

“Do you want to tell me what you mean by all that?” Jim asked gently, looking into smudged black eyes, enormous on his fear bleached face.

Freddie shook his head vigorously, dropping his eyes to their joined hands where Jim was rubbing tiny circles with his thumbs.

“No!” said Jim firmly. “Come on. You just said it, tell me what you mean. I’m not cross Freddie. Take your time” Jim soothed.

“It always happens because of me. Bad stuff” Freddie muttered into his lap.

“Sweetheart” Jim said firmly “I saw everything from where I was. You would have been badly hurt if I hadn’t caught you. You didn’t cause the accident.”

Freddie raised his eyes.

“….and I always will catch you darling” Jim added quickly while he had Freddie’s attention.

“It was my fault” Jim continued bluntly, raising a finger to stop Freddie as he was about to argue. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It was an accident, but I got in yours and Deaky’s way. I’m sorry Freddie, it was your big night, and I ruined it for all of you, but I’m not sorry that I did what I did. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A beat passed as the enormity and confidence of Jim’s words settled over both of them, soaking into Jim’s own consciousness.

Freddie shook his head sadly “We can’t!”

His words were a murmur, but their very sound permeated Jim’s skin, making his blood run ice cold in his veins.

The icy blood rushed into his ears, as Jim grappled to absorb Freddie’s rejection with grace.

Was it over?

Would this be the end of their relationship?

Had Jim’s words heralded the end? Given Freddie the opportunity to let him go.

It had been wonderful – but it had to end – didn’t it?

Jim had to be realistic.

The barman and rock star. It even sounded like a fairy tale that men – real men - those that married women, would read to their infants.

Freddie’s fear filled demeanour caught his eye, and Jim was overcome a second time. This time with the weight of his own failure. He was already breaking a vow - he had promised to listen to Freddie - never to judge, and never to yell.

Jim looked closer into those beautiful eyes that for once were not hiding the truth from him.

A spark of misunderstanding.

Freddie was simply confused.

Jim took a step back. He pulled up a chair, and smoothed a lock of Freddie’s hair behind his ear, as he settled down to give him his full attention.

“Can’t what darling?” Jim asked calmly, his voice not betraying the fear inside.

“We can’t get married. Marriage is between a man and a woman ….to raise children” Freddie said quietly. “It’s against the law, and against…” his voice trailed “…God”

“Oh darling!” Jim whispered on an out breath, grappling with the conversation’s unexpected turn, struggling to find familiar ground.

“Do you want to tell me a little more about your God?” Jim asked gently. “Brian once told me that your parents raised you Zoroastrian?”

Freddie looked uncomfortable, peering around Jim towards the door.

“My parents raised me in the Catholic faith” continued Jim, not waiting for the answer he knew wouldn’t come. “I don’t know what it means to be Zoroastrian, but I bet you were told that falling in love with a man made you a sinner - maybe even evil? Am I on the right path?”

Freddie shuffled uncomfortably. “Do you think Deaky will be long?”

Freddie’s face crumpled, and for a moment Jim was concerned he was about to cry.

“It’s the hospital smell” Freddie reasoned, as goose bumps rose on his skin “I just …don’t like it.”

Jim smiled encouragingly, and squeezed Freddie’s hand. “Deaky will be back after his X Ray sweetheart – hopefully with good news” he soothed.

To Jim’s surprise, Freddie picked up where he had left off.

“I am expected to marry a women, and give her children. My father will expect…” The sentence was left hanging.

Jim only just managed to hang onto his laughter as it bubbled up his throat. Freddie….a husband…a father?! He was barely out of boyhood.

Something stopped his laughter.

It dawned on Jim that this moment could be their most important to date. His response to Freddie’s inner most thoughts would shape the future of their relationship. If he was ever to engender Freddie’s trust, he couldn’t afford to ridicule him.

Jim took a breath, and held his nerve.

“Would you like to marry a woman?” he asked patiently.

This time Freddie did laugh out loud.

“No!” he wailed. “There’s this girl I met at the markets in Kensington – Mary. She was Brian’s girlfriend at first, before he met Chrissie. We get along famously. Aah Jim, I have to introduce you, Mary is a hoot. You will love her. So….” Freddie lowered his voice conspiratorially. “… we got naked…” Freddie’s giggles filled the room “…and I couldn’t get hard! Me? I can laugh now because well….” heat flushed Freddie’s cheeks “…I’m always hard, but at the time I was mortified!” Freddie ended the story with a flourish of his arms.

Jim forced his laughter a little harder than the amusement he felt.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask how he intended to give Mary a child.

“What will you do Freddie?” Jim asked softly.

“I won’t be expected to marry right now – not like Kashmira – especially now that I’m touring, so I will casually mention girls to my parents, never take any home, then climb into your bed every night” he quipped cheekily.

Jim’s heart swelled with pride - every night? So Freddie did see a future with him.

“By what age will Kashmira be expected to marry?” Jim asked out of curiosity, never having known Freddie’s faith come into his decision making before.

Freddie shrugged. “I’m not sure. Traditionally she would be 18, but Papa wants her to get a good education and have a career first, so I’m not sure.”

The clock chimed …five seconds…ten.

“What does marriage mean to you sweetheart?” Jim asked carefully.

Freddie shrugged.

“What about your Mum and Dad? Have they only ever been married to each other?”

Freddie nodded. “Mum and Dad have an arranged marriage.”

Jim gasped. The enormity of how much he had left to learn about the culture in which Freddie had been raised alarmed him.

Freddie it seemed was caught in a crossfire of tradition, religion, and culture, compounded by a patriarchal education.

Was there room for love?

“Is it alright if I tell you what marriage means to me, and why I want to give you this ring?” Jim asked carefully.

Freddie nodded.

“Marriage for me is about being willing - willing to work through the really hard stuff, and to share the good … with that one special person. The one you can’t live without. For me, that’s you sweetheart. We’ve done that since we met Freddie – worked through the really fucking rough, and lived life to the full. I want to do this forever. I want to do it forever with you. It’s not about the music, or the tours, or the fucking money, I’d feel the same if you were still a student.”

Jim paused for breath.

Freddie was absorbed in his words. Head tilted, eyes wide. This was one of the few times that Jim felt he had Freddie’s full attention.

This was the gamble of his life.

“Tonight …what I heard up there on that stage…. what you went through when you were kidnapped...it was all so fucking unnecessary. I love you Freddie. The thought of you feeling abandoned, confused, and just… alone because we had a few harsh words, it breaks me in two!”

Jim reached inside his pocket for the ring box.

“This ring, this cold metal on your finger would remind you that a part of me always wants to be with you. That no matter what words had been spoken in anger, that my love for you is a solid as this ring, and always with be.”

“You don’t know that!” Freddie snapped angrily. “How can you possibly promise that?!”

Jim smiled softly. Relieved at having spoken his truth, despite Freddie’s difficulty in digesting it.

“I know you don’t get it Freddie…” Jim continued softly “…but you will. I know you are the right person for me – now, and in the future. One day you will trust me, and you will know that I love you with everything I have, and it will be the most rewarding day of my life.”

“I have had relationships before you know!” Freddie lied. “I do know how this all works. I fall in love with you, and you……” the sentence trailed away unfinished, and Jim took his opportunity.

“The ring is yours Freddie.” Jim pushed the soft velvet box into Freddie’s hand. “I want you to have it, whatever you decide.”

Freddie flipped open the lid timidly. The ring sparkled way beyond it’s simplicity, but it could not match the sparkle in Freddie’s eyes.

“It’s beautiful darling” he whispered, at a loss for any other words.

Jim pressed the back of his hand to the flush of pleasure on Freddie’s cheek, feeling the familiar warmth there. The warmth that matched his own at bringing such joy to the man he loved.

“Do you like it?” Jim whispered. “It’s one of a kind. It’s not a precious metal, or a gem - one day I will get you something better - but it’s exquisite, it’s unique, it’s complex in its design – it’s like you darling.”

Freddie giggled, but he could not drag his eyes away from the ring.

“Try it on. Try it on a few fingers, find out where it fits best. See how it feels, and where you would like to wear it. We can make our own rules sweetheart. We’re not governed by tradition.”

Freddie started to take the ring from the box, but stopped as another concern crept in.

“Who would marry us though?” he asked, head tilted, lips pursed in a confused pout that made Jim want to squeeze him.

“Well….there isn’t anyone” Jim stuttered. “We need to decide upon our own promises to each other in the eyes of God. I would need a ring too, and we would agree which finger we will wear them on as a symbol of our vows” Jim rocked forward and planted a kiss to Freddie’s cheek “…then we would host a lavish party.”

Freddie laughed out loud, and Jim was relieved at the lightening of the atmosphere.

Freddie appraised Jim with soft eyes. “What do you want darling? What do you want out of life?”

Jim did not miss a beat before he responded. “I want love Freddie. Real love, and contentment.”

“How will you ever find contentment with me?!” Freddie said, aghast. “If Queen become the biggest band in the world – and we will – I’ll never be at home. We won’t have a home.” Freddie shook his head, dismissing any notion that he could ever make Jim happy.

Jim squeezed his hands, and gazed sincerely into his eyes. “You are my home sweetheart. I want to be yours.”

“What about….other men?” Freddie asked nervously.

This time it was Jim’s laughter that echoed around the room, dissolving the last remnants of discomfort that Freddie had at being in a hospital.

Unsure of why Jim was laughing, Freddie rose from his chair and shuffled onto Jim’s lap, nudging into the space inside his arms.

Sobering suddenly, Jim gazed sincerely into Freddie’s eyes. “There can be no other men Freddie. If we do this , it has to be us – just us. If that’s too hard for you right now, I understand…well I don’t understand….but we can stay as we are. If we’re going to do this, you have to mean it.”

Freddie’s eyes never left Jim’s as he wrapped his arms around his neck and pressed his lips to his in a passionate searching kiss.

Jim leaned his forehead onto Freddie’s. “What was that for baby?”

“I haven’t been kissed for ages” Freddie whispered with faux seriousness.

Freddie squealed as Jim tipped him back into his arms smothering his face with kisses.

Suddenly something else occurred to Jim. He pulled Freddie upright.

“Something else I must ask of you…”

Freddie’s eyes darted from side to side looking for an escape route.

“I want to meet your father” Jim said quickly. Getting it out before he could change his mind.

Freddie’s face crumpled in annoyance. His lips pursing as though he was sucking on something sour.

“I don’t care what you introduce me as for the time being….eventually I would like us both to be honest …” Jim faltered when Freddie turned a violent shade of puce. “… in your time Freddie, but I need to know the people in your life who also love you. That’s what family is.”

“I’ve never met YOUR father!” Freddie snapped stormily “…and what makes you think papa loves me! You’ve never met him, you don’t know what he’s like, you have no idea…..”

Jim held up a hand, defending himself from Freddie’s impressive tirade.

Somewhere an imaginary line had been crossed.The damn has burst, and Freddie had begun to talk about his life.

Jim did not feel prepared, but was terrified to discourage the flow of honesty that had begun. He never dreamt Freddie would open up - in a hospital no less. He wished they were somewhere private. Somewhere safe and warm where Freddie could talk as much or as little as he was comfortable with. Where Jim could just listen to him talk for hours, for as long as he needed. It occurred to Jim how little Freddie actually talked about the important things. How he skipped through life, leaping lightly from the fun to the frivolous, never landing on solid ground long enough to form a lasting thought – like a kitten chasing a feather blowing in the breeze.

Jim smiled, lightening the mood.

“We can fly to Ireland whenever you like. You can meet my father, and my brothers and sisters - and their kids.”

Freddie paled.

Jim chuckled and pulled him closer “You’re so shy when you want to be aren’t you baby!”

Jim watched Freddie’s face intensely as he worked his way through so many emotions – almost as though each one was new to him.

He settled on a pout, and a soft growl.

Jim laughed softly.

“Oh!” Jim said twisting in his chair, and rummaging in a bag beside the chair leg. “Your growl reminded me, look what I found in the gift shop.”

Jim’s face brightened with a wide smile when he held aloft a teddy bear.

The bear was made from a deep plush, its honey coloured fur gleaming like a freshly brushed coat.

Freddie gasped in surprise.

He hadn’t seen one of those in a while.

Some of the boys at boarding school had them.

The very young boys when they first arrived.

Quaking with fear, and clutching at the one thing that could give them the smallest ounce of comfort.

The bears were never seen again.

Freddie gazed up at Jim, his soft features an arrangement of confusion.

“Go on – take it!” Jim laughed. “It’s for you. It’s a bit of nonsense really, but I thought you might like it. Souvenir of New York.”

Freddie reached out a tentative hand, his fingers sinking into the deep fur.

“Do you like him?” Jim asked, beginning to feel a little tentative. Concerned that such a simple act of fun had plunged Freddie deep into contemplation.

Freddie smiled, the spell breaking as his fingers explored the bear, languishing in its intricate workmanship.

“Go on, give him a squeeze” coaxed Jim. “Freddie you’re acting like you’ve never seen a teddy before.”

Freddie held the small bear to his chest, and a sincere smile spread across his face as he whispered “Thank you darling.”

Suddenly Freddie spotted some pink fabric peeping out of Jim’s other hand.

He brightened instantly at the cheerful colour. “What’s that?” he asked, pawing at Jim’s hand with amusement.

“I found these in the gift shop too.” Jim held up a pair of socks, identical to his own, the ones that invariably found their way onto Freddie’s feet. “Look at the pattern…” he held the socks up to Freddie’s face “…love hearts” he confirmed with a laugh.

Freddie laughed out loud, and in contrast to how he had received the bear, he snatched at the socks, carefully removing the label before pulling them onto his ice chilled feet.

“Freddie!” Jim shrieked with alarm, slapping a hand over his forehead. “You have no shoes on! I’m such a fucking idiot. In my rush to pack Deaky’s clothes, I didn’t bring anything for you!”

“It’s ok dear” said Freddie coolly. “I’m barefoot and in my dressing gown, I’m bang on trend for the hospital.”

Jim’s laughter boomed in his chest.

“Oh” continued Freddie, “…and I also have pink heart socks and a teddy bear, I’m the luckiest boy alive.”

Freddie suddenly became serious, dropping his gaze to the ring box in his lap. He picked up the box, and opened the lid, studying the contents. “Jim….I would…

The door crashed open, as Deaky was wheeled through it into the room.

He was sitting upright, all of the straps had been removed. For Deaky, he was wearing a very large smile.

Jim grabbed Freddie’s hand, closing his fingers around the ring box, as he carefully shuffled it back into his pocket.

“A couple of hours observation boys, and I’m going home” whooped Deaky, entirely out of character for his quiet self.

Freddie and Jim leapt to their feet rushing over to congratulate him. Relief palpable on everyone’s face.

*************************

Freddie squealed as Jim stooped beside him, lifting him and cradling him against his body.

“You’ll get your new socks dirty” Jim reasoned, despite the hotel carpet being the cleanest ground Freddie had beneath his feet for some time.

Freddie giggled coquettishly, eyelashes fluttering. “I like it when you are all masterful” he purred, nipping the skin at Jim’s neck with his teeth.

“Good” Jim growled into his ear “because I’m gonna fuck you into next week.”

Jim sobered when he noticed a woman walking towards them.

He dropped Freddie discreetly onto his feet outside their hotel room door. The woman’s eyes locked with Jim’s, distaste evident on her face.

Jim met the woman’s stare head on, the length of his body pressed against Freddie’s, the promise of what was to come.

He didn’t break the stare while patting his pocket for the room key, and pushing Freddie inside ahead of him.

The moment the door was locked, Jim allowed his passion to consume him.

With the day’s drama behind them, the emotions Jim had experienced while watching the show flooded over him once more.

The need to touch Freddie.

The need to have him just for himself – if only for a short while - before they were thrown into yet another public reception.

Freddie gasped as he was pushed hard against the door.

A large hand wrapped itself around his wrists, forcing his hands above his head. The other hand cupped his cheek, the thumb smearing across the plumpness of his bottom lip, forcing his lips apart. Bruising lips were pressed to his. A tongue plundering, exploring, and conquering.

The lips moved away, and Freddie thought he might fall where he stood.

He needed those lips like he needed air.

He gasped sharply before recapturing the lips with his, surprising Jim with his boldness.

Strong arms swung him round and lifted him off his feet, his legs coming up instinctively to wrap around Jim’s hips, the hardness of their bodies pressed against one another.

Jim laid Freddie onto his back surprisingly tenderly, while dropping down onto his knees. He seductively unwrapped the tie of Freddie’s kimono, pressing firm kisses to his stomach, down to the button on his shorts.

“I need a shower” Freddie gasped on a passion heavy breath.

“I don’t give a shit” grunted Jim through gritted teeth, barely restraining his ardour, as his tongue made it’s journey below the waistband of Freddie’s shorts, lapping little circles into the hair. It wasn’t enough though, Jim needed to be closer to him, to feel Freddie’s skin on his.

Jim raised himself back onto his knees, unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it down his shoulders, as he flicked open the button at his waistband.

He was a man on a mission.

Jim leaned onto his elbows, his hands in Freddie’s hair, as he pressed his lips to Freddie’s again, kissing deeply, tasting, feeling the mirroring response.

The fingertips digging into the skin of his back told him that Freddie wanted this as badly as he did. The small hands firm around his denim clad buttocks pulling Jim’s hardness towards he own. Jim’s lips slowed, becoming gentle, tempting a whimper from Freddie.

A hand at Freddie’s brow repeatedly grazed over the skin as their eyes met, lips meeting intermittently as Freddie tried to capture Jim’s bottom lip in his teeth.

Their eyes locked together, searching for more, searching for a way to be closer.

“I want you” Jim whispered forcefully, emblazoned with passion.

Not taking his eyes from Jim’s, Freddie unclipped the braces on his shorts and pulled them down, curling his knees up to his chest to whisk them over his feet.

Jim’s was a breathy laugh as he caught sight of the socks, holding Freddie’s knees to his chest as he grasped the toes yanking them off one by one. “You’re not wearing socks in bed baby, we’re not married yet!”

Freddie’s attempt to laugh was caught on a whine as the tip of Jim’s tongue traced the line of his buttocks, circling deliciously before pressing inside him.

********************

Freddie forced the weight of his lust-heavy eyelids, and gasped at the vision before him.

Jim was on his knees, vigorously stroking himself, his jeans open but not removed in his hurry. Jim’s face was hot and impassioned. His other hand was pressed against Freddie’s body, his fingers moving inside, testing, stretching.

Freddie moaned loudly. His breath expelling on a note of pleasure as the delicious sensations ricocheted through him, enhanced somehow by the vision.

Freddie wished he could hurry his body into readiness. He wished he could take his lover right now, be everything he so desperately needed. Experience told him that Jim wouldn’t hurry him. He would take it slowly, pushing Freddie to the edge of sanity, before letting him drop over.

Freddie cried out as Jim added another finger.

He gazed up at his lover, helpless to the sounds coming from his lips, as helpless as Jim was to the strokes to his own body, trying so hard to slow down, to take his time, but being unable to stop the motion in his drive to satisfaction.

Freddie’s satisfaction was in the expression on his lovers face. Jim was always so gentle, so slow, so considerate of Freddie’s needs. Tonight it was obvious he had needs of his own, and was barely holding back.

Bodies in sync, Jim lowered himself into his elbow, his hand stroking its way down Freddie’s leg, pushing it upwards and over his shoulder. Freddie’s back arched intuitively, already so aroused.

Jim wrapped his arm under Freddie’s back as he lapped at the skin of his torso. Salty with sweat. Hot kisses hurried and passionate but losing nothing in intensity.

Jim rocked his weight onto Freddie, pinning him beneath, a large hand returning to his wrists, pushing them over his head onto the pillow.

Freddie was panting, crying out in anticipation for how he would feel seconds after Jim claimed him. His nerve endings were on fire.

Jim entered him at speed, slowing temporarily to allow Freddie to adjust to the intrusion before he was hurried on with a gasp eager to take everything his lover could give him.

Fingertips kneaded skin, pulling, pushing, faster, harder, gasps becoming broken, cries becoming lost in wave after wave of pleasure.

Jim rolled onto his hip pulling Freddie close when something sharp caught beneath him causing him to yelp.

Jim ran his hand around Freddie’s hip, holding them together, while the other investigated the cause of the pain. Jim pulled the small velvet box from his pocket, smiling as he held it up to Freddie’s face.

“Yes” Freddie cried, thrusting his body up to meet Jim’s as he rolled back into him. Pulling his legs further up Jim’s back Freddie took control, not breaking in the thrusts he was metering out, pleasure absorbed on a gasp.

Jim balanced on his elbows, helpless to the onslaught that was taking over his lower body, as he tried to remove the ring from the box.

“Freddie, do you want this?” Jim held the ring to Freddie’s lust heavy eyes. “Do you want to marry me?”

“Yes!” Freddie cried out nodding rapidly, panting as Jim pushed his arms back over his head, trying to grasp his left hand.

Freddie pressed his hips to Jim’s again, completely engulfing him in the sweet sensation, causing him to momentarily lose his course on a grunt.

Freddie held his right hand up to Jim “Yes! Give it to me. Right there”

Jim couldn’t be sure whether Freddie meant the ring or his cock, but he pushed the ring onto the third finger of Freddie’s right hand. It fit like a dream, and he didn’t waste a second regaining control, bearing down on Freddie with a powerful thrust.

“Are you going to say I coerced you into marrying me?” Jim chuckled on a heated gasp.

“Yes!” Freddie cried.

Freddie wrapped his legs tightly around Jim’s back and allowed himself to be lost completely in the punishing pace of his thrusts. Both men cried out loudly, uncontrolled and abandoned as the neighbours pounded on the walls.

“I love you” Freddie wailed on his release, collapsing in the heat of Jim’s exhausted arms. “Don’t leave me like the others, I just know I couldn’t bear it!” Freddie sobbed, large tears rolling down his face in rivers. “I know I could never deserve you.”

Concern broke through Jim’s mask of pleasure, closing over his face as Freddie’s outburst stunned him to the core.

“Darling….” Jim started once more, not sure what came next. He brushed the tears away with his thumb. “I love you. I just truly love you!”


	38. Encounters: Shooting Star - Don't Stop me Now!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Queen’s last night in America, and what better way to celebrate than a party with your friends – new and old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!! I hear you cry 😊
> 
> A couple of people have asked why I call this fic Encounters – well it’s neither about aliens, or internet dating! 😊  
Someone once made a comment about how unlikely it was that anyone would meet and be chatted up by Freddie once – never mind twice – as Jim Hutton was, and it got me thinking….if the right opportunity comes into our lives in a way that’s less than 100% perfect, do we get that opportunity again? What are the chances of winning the lottery twice if you didn’t win enough the first time, or conversely can we actually be struck by lightning twice? That’s Encounters – perfect fate 😊 
> 
> Fun fact: Freddie did swing naked from a chandelier at Roger’s birthday party! haha
> 
> I do hope this chapter makes you smile lovies. We could all do with a laugh right now. Enjoy and stay safe xx
> 
> P.S. Cristalstarmochi – you will spot some ‘little gems’ 😊

Freddie leaned back against the bedhead, and sighing deeply pressed the heel of his hands to his closed eyes.

What a fucking moron!

Crying – fucking crying – and during sex!

As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d revealed all on stage in a premature, imperfectly performed song. He had nearly killed his darling Deaky today, and now he had made an idiot of himself in front of Jim.

Freddie couldn’t bear the pain that the air in his lungs caused.

He had to get away.

He leapt to his feet turning first left then right in an anguished dance, before finally looking down at himself – bare foot, and in his dressing gown.

A literal dressing gown this time - white toweling - his hair still dripping from when Jim had lovingly washed it in the shower.

Jim had also removed Freddie’s eye make-up with a soapy flannel, taking care not to get it into his eyes.

There can’t have been much make up left on his eyes. Surely it had all dribbled down his face during his meltdown.

Freddie just needed some clothes – any clothes.

He would go to the bar.

By the time Jim found him, he would be suitably anaesthetised. He would no longer care what Jim thought.

Freddie grabbed for his holdall. There must be something he could just pull on.

He began to pull lengths of fabric from the bag. In his haste, the teddy bear that Jim had given him tumbled out of the bag onto his pillow, and Freddie leapt back as though the bear was a grenade about to go off.

After a few seconds had passed, Freddie tentatively reached for the bear. Tracing his finger tenderly around the stitching of the seams, as though he was touching the sutures of a recently stitched child.

The nose was exquisite, embroidered in what felt like black silk. The eyes were bold and beady, with an unusual shade of amber coloured irises.

Jim had great taste in bears.

Freddie glanced at the sparkle on his right hand. He had great taste in jewellery too.

So, it was just in men that he suffered from poor taste.

Nervously Freddie looked around him, as though expecting to be surveyed.

He was alone wasn’t he? Completely alone.

He could still hear the shower running, and was that…Jim singing, in a broad Irish brogue?

Guiltily Freddie squeezed the bear to his chest.

It did feel good. Soft and furry, and oddly warm for an inanimate object.

Freddie perched on the edge of the bed for a moment, before lying down curled around the bear.

He didn’t feel ready to go to the bar just yet.

Jim liked long showers.

He could have five minutes – couldn’t he?

**************************

Jim closed the bathroom door behind him, and rubbed a towel through his wet hair.

He smiled.

Freddie hadn’t moved all that far from where he had left him, and there was no sign of progress on the tea front either.

Freddie looked comfortable in his white toweling robe. His dark head was bent as he focused intensely on something in his lap.

As he moved, Jim caught a glimpse of golden fur. The bear was perched on Freddie’s thigh, like a pet watching its busy owner.

The warmth of Jim’s smile could have heated the room.

Suddenly Freddie yelped, making Jim jump with a curse. His beautiful face crumpled into a cross pout, as his thumb made its way into his mouth.

“What are you doing baby?” Jim sat beside Freddie with a chuckle, resting his chin on Freddie’s shoulder as he peered into his lap,

“I want to wear this for the reception tonight, but there aren’t enough sequins on it” he grumbled around the thumb.

This, was a crumpled piece of satin – black down one side, and white down the other.

Jim rubbed a piece of the shiny fabric between his thumb and forefinger, and smiled. “I like you in satin” he mumbled. The bone of his chin against Freddie’s collarbone causing him to wince.

“I need to sew all these on” Freddie explained, narrowing his eyes to slits as he attempted to poke the cotton back through the eye of the needle that had just treacherously stabbed him.

Jim could see twinkling in the lamplight of what looked like a hundred translucent sequins on the night stand.

“How do you even pick those up?” Jim shrieked incredulously, failing to secure a sequin between his thumb and forefinger, as Freddie expertly threaded a tiny silver needle through a sequin with ease.

Jim gave up, licking his thumb and planting it firmly on the sequin trying to raise it.

Freddie slapped his hand playfully. “Because I have reasonable size fingers” he giggled.

Jim laughed loudly, and wriggled his fingers in front of Freddie’s face. “You weren’t complaining earlier when these fingers made you moan.”

The blush that rushed across Freddie’s face never failed to amaze Jim.

Just hours ago, Freddie had been onstage showcasing his mind and body in front of thousands. Just one hour ago that body was writhing beneath him, begging him for more. Now at the mention of his own pleasure his head was bowed, and thick eyelashes prevented Jim from seeing those expressive eyes.

Jim squeezed him with a chuckle. “You’re beautiful” he whispered, deepening Freddie’s blush.

“Are you alright now though? Feeling better?” Jim whispered carefully with a kiss to his cheekbone, fearful to upset him again.

Freddie nodded. “I feel a fool!” His eyes couldn’t quite meet Jim’s. He raised his sewing and his shoulders slumped. “I’m not very manly am I?!” he said rhetorically.

“I’m not attracted to macho men sweetheart.” Jim looked pensive before continuing. “There was a time when I thought I was – I thought I should be – I thought that’s what it meant to be gay. That if I was drawn to effeminate men, that it just meant I hadn’t found the right girl yet.”

“Do you think I am effeminate?” Freddie asked.

“You have traits of femininity, yes” Jim answered honestly, catching Freddie’s face as it fell in disappointment.

“Freddie you look crushed, and I don’t know why darling?” Jim asked mystified.

“Do you think I’m a wimp?” soft voice.

“No!” wailed Jim “You are the strongest person I know! Freddie you always look for the negative in everything I say, and I don’t know why sweetheart. I adore you! I love everything about you. You have all these hidden, unique talents, see? Who in their wildest imagination would think the rock God Freddie Mercury could sew?”

Jim raised the bejeweled fabric closer to his face. “This really is very good Freddie. No one would know a professional hadn’t done it. Did you learn to sew at art school?”

Freddie shook his head while knotting the cotton and trimming the end. “Mum taught me when I was small, before I was sent away…”

“Mind you…” Jim interrupted with a wide smile “…where did that wild sexy boy that I chased through the clubs of London go? You’re nothing like him!”

The barb from Jim’s comment pierced Freddie’s heart.

His face ashen, devoid of colour, as the pain ripped through him.

They always wanted HIM – the big Freddie – the showman.

Never this person.

The man that sewed by candlelight.

The man who cried after sex and begged his lover not to leave him.

That man was hateful.

A responsibility.

A dependent.

Everyone grew tired of that man in time.

God knows Freddie himself was exhausted by the untimely appearances of that man.

“I prefer this boy…” Jim continued, causing Freddie’s sore heart to leap. “This boy has everything that boy had. Oh yes, this boy is sexy” Jim nodded with certainty, “…but he’s also warm, and funny, and endearing.”

“I‘m a man!” Freddie whaled, flashing his toweling robe to reveal the evidence.

Jim snorted, and linked his fingers through those on Freddie’s right hand, rubbing his thumb over the hard metal. “This MAN is also my husband” Jim smiled nervously.

“Are you really ok about this though?” he chuckled. “I got you at an opportunistic moment sweetheart….for myself” he laughed “….but jokes aside, I don’t want to rush you into anything. It’s important to me that you trust your own heart” Jim said becoming serious.

Freddie turned to Jim with urgency and grasped Jim’s hands in his, a rush of so many emotions confusing and warming him all at once. “I meant it darling, we need to get you a ring” Freddie brightened with sincerity.

*****************

Freddie leapt when there was a very loud knock on the door.

“Jesus Christ!” he whispered, clutching a hand to his chest.

Jim squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry darling” he said sincerely.

“What for?” quipped Freddie, one perfect eyebrow raised.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone that day. I’ll never forgive myself.”

Freddie dismissed Jim’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about that dear, that knock was bloody loud!” Freddie pushed his knuckles gently into Jim’s thigh. “Go see who it is” he persuaded excitedly.

Jim peered around the door with almost as much trepidation as Freddie had once felt.

A uniformed maid was barely visible behind an enormous bouquet of white flowers.

“Freddie Mercury?” came a small voice.

“Erm….no…I’m Jim Hutton….Freddie’s P.A” Jim’s eyes dropped self-consciously to the towel at his waist.

“That’s fine sir” assured the maid. “You can sign for these” she said carefully passing Jim a receipt, and an impossibly small pencil.

“Freddie …..help!” Jim called from under the blooms.

The maid flushed when Freddie took the receipt from her with a knockout smile. “Thank you dear. Is that ok?” he asked, swaying prettily as he signed the receipt with a swish of a heart over the I.

The maid nearly dropped a curtsy as she retrieved the pencil, careful not to touch Freddie’s fingertips, and scurried quickly down the corridor to safety.

Jim stared after the woman open mouthed. “Would you look at that!” he exclaimed. “I’m butt naked under this towel, and she loses it at your smile.

Freddie’s smile brightened. “Well, I am pretty” he quipped, clapping excitedly “Who are those for?”

“Well they’re not going to be for me are they?!” Jim quipped sarcastically, and Freddie made a mental note to surprise Jim with flowers one day soon.

Freddie ran his fingertips delicately over the velvety petals. “Ooh roses, and lisianthus, trachelium, lilies and forsythia “ he bent to inhale the scent noisily.

Jim laughed. “If you say so darling. Go on, take the card.”

Freddie narrowed his eyes with a smile. “Are they from you?”

Jim could barely contain his grin.

“No!” he wailed. “Freddie read the card.”

A slow but sure smile spread across Freddie’s lips as he read the card.

Excitement flickered his bright eyes to life. “They’re from your Mum!” he cried excitedly “for my birthday!” Freddie closed his eyes as he inhaled the scent. “I don’t deserve all this fuss” he whispered to himself, his eyes not quite meeting Jim’s.

“Do you like them?” Jim asked softly. “Mum mentioned she was going to send them. I’m so glad you were here when they arrived.”

Freddie appeared lost in thought. “Do you think Deaky might like them?”

“Why darling? Don’t you like them?” Jim questioned with concern. “Tell me what you are really thinking Freddie please?”

Freddie pulled the flowers close to his heart “I love them darling! But Deaky deserves a proper apology.”

Jim wrapped an arm around Freddie’s shoulders and steered him towards a vase he had secretly prepared.

“Sweetheart, these flowers are for you to enjoy. For your birthday. If you want to get Deaky a gift we’ll go to the shops tomorrow before we leave, but you have nothing to be sorry for. I want you to understand that here and now please, and not worry about it again. Is that a deal?”

**************************

“Do you want to help me choose something to wear for tonight?” Jim asked, swinging the wardrobe door open fully.

Jim thoroughly enjoyed the quiet times with Freddie.

He had helped Freddie into the recently bejeweled satin catsuit – being carefully not to mention how loosely it fit since his kidnapping.

He had pulled Freddie onto his lap at the dressing table, watching silently as he painstakingly applied eyeliner, mascara and blush until it was perfect. Not a blemish on his ivory skin. Subtle tones of lipstick applied with the fine brush onto soft kissable lips.

Jim relished the atmosphere of Freddie preparing for a celebration, instead of a performance.

How little his hands trembled.

How few fractious words were uttered - or any words at all - they could just exist in sweet harmony.

The acceptance of Jim in Freddie’s space. No shuffling, no tension, no request for space of his own. Just the quiet acceptance of a trusted person.

It wouldn’t always be like this. Freddie was willful, he was headstrong, and determined, but for this moment there was no judgment, or suggestion, and no performance required.

Freddie clapped his hands at Jim’s request. Springing to his feet and rushing to the wardrobe.

His face fell with disappointment.

Freddie touched one fabric, then another.

“Darling, we need to take you shopping!” he muttered with quiet concern.

Jim’s laughter echoed around the room. “We’re not all dandies darling! I wouldn’t know the latest fashion if it sat on my chest and slapped my face” Jim roared with laughter.

Freddie turned to Jim, his face the picture of sobriety. His soft eyes perusing every inch of his lovers face, as though he had never seen him before.

“You deserve so much more my dear” Freddie said sincerely. “Style trumps fashion always, but we need to get you shades to bring out the colour in your eyes, and fabrics that feel nice on your skin…” the familiar light flashed into his eyes “…and mine!” he said with a giggle.

Even several knocks on the door, and Roger’s call of “Open up Mercury” didn’t shake Freddie from his concentration on the contents of Jim’s wardrobe.

Freddie carefully selected a shirt, scowling at the course cotton cuffs, followed by a pair of black trousers, and a jacket with padded shoulders.

He held his selection up to the light, dissatisfaction mirrored in his gaze.

“Darling if I’d have known that pickings were this slim we could have prioritised shopping for you while we were in New York” Freddie said, conveniently dismissing his kidnap and recovery from his timeline, as though they had frivolously lazed away their days.

Freddie handed the clothing to Jim, and with a gentle hand to his hip pressed him towards the bathroom.

“Go and get ready. I’ll see who is at the door” he said, efficiently switching roles.

*************************

Jim leaned in close, trying to see as much of his reflection at the same time as the misty face mirror would allow.

He straightened his collar. Collars never seemed to sit right against his neck.

Was he really that far out of style?

Jim hadn’t given fashion much thought since he had first arrived in London.

He had immediately overhauled his look. Changing his appearance had been a part of his emergence from the small town boy chrysalis - to fit in, to start a new chapter.

Jim had always been well groomed – more so when he ventured into the clubs of London - but that is as much thought as he had given to his sense of dress.

Did he let Freddie down?

When they were together – when it was just them – they were invariably naked.

Freddie liked skin - naked skin.

He liked skin to be pressed against his; to keep him warm, to make him feel good – but what about when they were dressed?

Freddie was magnetically attractive to the eye.

He was well groomed, well styled, and always deliciously fragrant.

The compulsion to touch was constant. The feel of soft fabrics under Jim’s fingertips, and against Freddie’s skin.

Jim loved to run his fingers along a satin waistband onto soft skin, or downy hair.

What of Freddie?

What did he see when he looked at Jim? Was he drawn to touch him also?

Did he like the feeling of the fabrics Jim wore at all? Jim had never considered it before.

A serious of giggles and whoops from the other side of the door shook Jim from his reverie. He was suddenly looking forward to this evening. He might even have a few drinks himself.

As for the other thing - he was always encouraging Freddie to trust him, perhaps he should hand himself over to Freddie in the fashion stakes. Allow himself to be molded and styled to an object of Freddie’s desire.

Style was after all Freddie’s world.

****************

Jim peeped around the bathroom door.

The scene before him was that from a 1920’s jazz club. Sharp dressed young people dripped from every piece of furniture. Others stood in small groups chatting, clutching glasses of champagne or whiskey.

Jim craned his neck around the door frame, praying that Freddie had closed the bedroom door.

Jim was temporarily overcome by what it must feel like to be Freddie. The feeling that he couldn’t go out there - not alone – ‘there’ being his own hotel suite!

A loud shriek raised his attention, and Jim could see Freddie shimmering from a table top.

He daintily clutched the stem of what Jim doubted was orange juice, while attempting to escape Roger who jabbed at him with his finger end.

Another loud squeal and joyous laughter brought Jim out of his hiding place and over to where the small group were huddled.

“Jimmy Jim!” shrieked Roger at incredible volume, “Looking sharp my friend.” The slap to his back was more likely to relieve choking, than welcome him to the group.

Jim clutched Freddie’s satin hips making him squeal with surprise.

His face was a picture of mischief. Flushed prettily, while his eyes were two sparkling gems - pupils blown wide.

Momentarily Jim was transported back to the moment he met Freddie, as he had scooped him down from the table.

Dainty hands clutched broad shoulders, the persistent subtle fragrance that was an aura around Freddie.

The uncontrollable chuckling in Jim’s ear was new though.

“Roger! What the fuck have you done to him?” Jim shrieked with humour. “I only went for a piss and to change my clothes – look at the state of him!”

“Aaah live a little Jimmy Jim” roared Roger, staggering on the spot. “He’s had a shit time in New York, he wants to party, don’t you Freds?!” Roger skittled into Freddie, and Jim grabbed both of them, setting them back on the their feet with a fresh wave of giggles.

Jim couldn’t disagree with that.

******************************

“There they are!” exclaimed a heavy American drawl above the sound of the crowd.

Freddie entered the dimly lit hotel bar in a rush of press, and a cloud of subtle fragrance.

His arm was linked through Jim’s, his other hand clasped Deaky’s.

He lowered his head as the flash of cameras, and people’s stares ate into his brain.

Freddie pulled the boys closer, using their bodies to funnel the energy and attention, shielding himself in any way he could.

Roger’s fingers repeatedly jabbed his ribs, as he continued to play the game they had started upstairs, and Freddie resisted the playful urge to turn and jab him back.

Roger would get his.

Freddie could hear the rumble of Brian’s tone above his head as he greeted the press, answering all questions directed at him in a warm monotone. “Yes, we enjoyed the show,” “Thank you for your support.”

John Reid waved his arms, guiding the boys towards him like a member of airline crew directing a plane into the hanger.

John squeezed Deaky’s shoulder. “How are you man? You alright?”

Deaky nodded, eyes cast down to a glass that was pushed into his hands. “Feel a bit stupid really. I have a headache, and some impressive bruises, but I’ll live.”

“Good, good” nodded John, clapping his shoulder.

“Freddie, these good people say they know you.” Reid stood aside, and ushered Sylvia and Burt forward.

John was shocked to receive a punch to the shoulder from Sylvia. “We do know these boys! We met them down by the river today. Ahhhh come here you…” Sylvia wrapped Freddie into an enormous hug “….you were so good up there. All on your own with that piano one. Such a brave boy,” Sylvia gushed like a proud parent at a nativity play.

“I can’t believe you came!” Freddie bumbled, trembling with excitement. “T - Thank you so much,” he stammered, clicking his fingers towards a passing waiter. “My guests are without a drink!” he enunciated perfectly, causing the waiter to stop sharp.

“Sorry Sir” he mumbled, handing a glass of champagne to both Sylvia and Burt.

“Ooooh” Sylvia bubbled like the champagne in her glass. “All this fuss for us.”

“I just ….can’t believe you came” Freddie repeated.

“Well, of course we did sweetie. You music is a little louder than I’m used to, and Burt here is deaf as a post, but we enjoyed it didn’t we Burt?” Sylvia nudged her husband, yelling into his face “Reliving our youth.”

“And how are you?” Sylvia directed her question at Jim, her demeanour entirely more business-like.

Jim leaned forward to place a kiss to both cheeks – something he had learnt from Freddie. Sylvia’s question had been barbed with tension; direct, unmoderated.

Jim felt like he was being read.

“Frazzled, thanks” he said with humour.

“You need to look after yourself too Jim” said Sylvia pointedly, and Jim had a chilled feeling in his bones that it wouldn’t be the end of that particular conversation.

****************

“Freddie, FREDDIE!” Reid sniped, irritated when he didn’t have Freddie’s full attention the first time.

“Look who else is here to check up on his investment….”

Reid stood back to reveal a portly middle aged gentleman with a whisky in one hand, and a cigar in the other.

There was a lot of noise at once as the boys surrounded the man, shaking his hand and clapping his back.

With not a word Freddie launched himself, throwing his arms around the visitor’s rotund middle, and burying his face into his chest.

“Stan Jefferson” John educated a confused Jim, handing him a whiskey.

“Old friend of mine. We go back years. Works with EMI. He brought me up to speed on Queen’s little jaunt around the south coast earlier this year. Said they needed ‘specialist handling’, my interest was piqued, but you’d know all about that Jim wouldn’t you?” John’s nose wrinkled aggressively as he took a sip of the harsh whiskey.

Jim flushed violently.

“What’s your point?” he asked John curtly.

“Not making one” John quipped, as he chinked his glass to Jim’s. “Cheers.”

“Back up, back up” ordered Stan with a chuckle “Yes, yes, give a man some space. You’re still the funny onion I remember” he said unclasping Freddie, and pushing him to a respectable distance.

“Magic you were tonight boys. Magic on that stage. I can see the work that’s gone into your stage performance, yes it’s coming along a treat. I just knew Johnny boy wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

Stan took a long drag on his cigar, as John raised his glass.

Freddie pointed towards John as the penny dropped. “You know John?”

“Who do you think sent John your way young man? Hmm?”

John tapped his nose. “I told you Freddie - due diligence. I know everything about you.”

Freddie looked from John to Stan and back again, as the uncomfortable memory of the night in Stan’s bed brought a treacherous flush to his face.

“Everything?” Freddie echoed meekly.

“Everything!” boomed Stan with a laugh.

“I know your strengths, your weaknesses, and the way you’ll behave in any given situation” John boasted cockily.

“Ha! Not likely” laughed Freddie, swaying on his feet, the challenge in his eyes.

“You’ve got the makings of a good business brain Freddie” said John.

At any other time Freddie might have been flattered.

“Leave no stone unturned before you lay down your money. Put that world class education to use” continued John with a smirk.

Freddie felt himself waver on the spot. He had told no one of his school days.

“Yes, I know all about your time at St Peter’s” John smirked with amusement. “All-rounder age 12. What the fuck happened at age 16 eh?”

Freddie stepped back in horror onto a bristling Jim’s toe, causing him to swear.

“Oh, how rude of me” Freddie bumbled, trying desperately to change the subject. “This is my…..bijou” Freddie offered shyly, pushing Jim towards Stan’s outstretched hand.

“So…you’re the firm hand?! How’s the job working out for you young man?” Stan inquired, pumping Jim’s hand vigorously.

“Great!” Jim said, his voice coming out a little higher pitched than intended.

All were relieved when Stan introduced two younger men to the group. “These are my two reprobates – Dave and Steve – they were looking for a little taste of good old Dad’s rock and roll lifestyle. I promised them a good evening…and no Beatles!”

*********************

Freddie’s peals of laughter could be heard throughout the restaurant as Roger attempted to pick himself up off the floor, plucking Brian’s clog out of an enormous potted plant.

Jim looped a long arm around Freddie’s waist as he almost slipped from the faux leather chair – satin on PVC was not a good mix.

The strip act was due on stage at any moment, but right now their table was the centre of attention.

Stan handed a cigar to John who nodded his approval of the brand, and reached for his lighter.

“The kids are happy” noted Stan “…and not just mine” he quipped with a deep belly laugh, as the stripper appeared on stage.

A battalion of waitresses surrounded the table with silver platters filled with steaming meats and fish and vegetables, which they proceeded to serve with silver service precision.

Jim had given up before he had even began.

The smell of food made his own delicate stomach heave, and Freddie was far too intoxicated to feel hunger.

Suddenly Ian yanked Freddie up by his costume giving him an eye watering wedgie. Jim winced, but Freddie was on his feet in seconds, chasing him around the table.

Moments like this filled Jim with immeasurable pleasure.

They shouldn’t.

He didn’t encourage drug taking.

He didn’t touch the stuff himself, and he didn’t like that Freddie was high, but if he partied hard, it was only in equal measure to how hard he worked, and how hard he crashed during the bad times.

Freddie was young. He recovered well. He would need to be carried up to bed, more than likely flopped helplessly over Jim’s shoulder when the last of his power ran out, but tomorrow he would rise, and work twice as hard as today.

Jim swept a hand over his own face. God he was tired.

Life on the road was exhausting, as well as exhilarating, and with hindsight Jim knew he would have made the biggest mistake of his life if he had stayed behind in London – not only for his sake - but also for Freddie’s.

He could not have imagined how Freddie would have coped alone, even though he knew that when posed with the question Freddie would insist he was fine. “What do you mean darling? I’m just dandy.”

“Have you lost something?” Joe quipped, his face an enormous smile as he approached the table with loaded silver trays balanced up one arm, and Freddie grasped firmly at the elbow with the other.

Joe yanked out the chair beside Jim and unceremoniously pushed a victorious Freddie into it, with his bounty of Ian’s last spliff between his fingers.

Joe laid the enormous platter on the table and began unloading small silver dishes in front of Freddie.

“Pork balls and dumplings” he announced. “Beansprouts, broccoli, and carrots. Those are complex food groups, and if he keeps that down he can eat as normal with you guys from now. He certainly seems all recovered, although…” Joe pulled on Freddie’s catsuit emphasising the uncharacteristic slackness there “…he needs to put some podge on.”

Jim chuckled with embarrassment, thankful that Freddie seemed oblivious to Joe’s comment as he speared a broccoli floret.

“If he’s sick tonight Joe, it won’t be from your cooking!” Jim laughed.

Joe pulled up a chair between them, stabbing his thumb in Freddie’s direction with a chuckle he whispered “What’s he on?”

Jim shrugged “God knows, but I bet it’s not compatible with these” Jim pulled the doctor’s prescription from his back pocket. “I’m supposed to give him these for that cough. I’ve had these myself, and they’re strong. I felt like I was on a roller coaster. I couldn’t finish them.”

“So…you’re obviously a light weight? People are different. What are you worried about?” Joe laughed.

“Pound for pound they might put Freddie on his back” Jim stated seriously, before clocking Freddie offering a pork ball to Roger.

“Oy, Freddie!” Jim yelled with an affectionate smile. “Joe cooked those especially for you to eat. I don’t see YOU eating them.”

Freddie pouted. “It’s polite to offer your food” he reasoned, delicately slicing a pork ball before placing it into his mouth as evidence.

Joe took the prescription from Jim, and slipped on his glasses.

“Maybe it’s the dosage you need to check with his doctor. With animals, dosage is worked out based on weight” pondered Joe.

“Are you suggesting I take Freddie to the vet?” quipped Jim.

The two men roared with laughter, attracting the attention of those sitting around them.

Jim suddenly felt light, like he was drifting slightly outside of his own body. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed because something was genuinely funny.

“What weight is he?” Joe inquired, squinting at the prescription.

Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. He whispered to the doctor but wouldn’t let me hear.”

Joe snorted. “He’s so dramatic. Everything is an event with him.”

“The doctor did say he was underweight though – whatever that means for him” Jim pondered. “What weight should young Persian rock stars be at his age?!”

Joe turned around to speak to Freddie. His meal was still steaming at the table, but his seat was empty.

*************************

Jim felt slim arms wrap around his waist as he was enjoying the first sip of his pint at the bar.

A hand crept a little lower, and a head appeared over his shoulder.

“Are you talking about me?” Freddie whispered, eyeing up Stan and Sylvia seated either side of him.

Jim dug his fingers into Freddie’s ribs in a viscous tickle. “You’re drunk little man” he growled into Freddie’s ear “…and as much as I want you, you had better behave for now.”

Freddie feigned a pout, before bursting into a raucous cackle, and dancing away to the next table.

“He’s going to need a firm hand that one, you’ll see” said Stan, taking a sip of his frothy beer. “Although, he’s been a good boy for John so far, he is gonna need a firm hand.”

Stan nudged Jim hard sloshing beer into his face as he bellowed with laughter, pointing at Jim’s large hand wrapped around his pint glass. “I can see you’ve got one!”

If only he knew, thought Jim, what Freddie needed on the contrary was the most gentle hand of all.

Jim sensed rather than saw Sylvia move closer to his other side.

“Has Freddie seen a mental health care professional since his kidnapping Jim?” she asked quietly, but Stan missed nothing.

“I’ve raised two sons, and I know they aren’t as tough as they like to put themselves across to be, but that one there….” Stan pointed across the room to where Freddie was offering his glass to be topped up “…he’s cracked in the middle. Things are not as they should be. Eccentric. Wonderful musician mind you. I’ve seen them all, but the difference between a lead singer and a frontman is that void inside. He’s got it that one – he’ll never fill it – he’s gonna be a monster hit, but it won’t be without his struggles. Is he queer?”

Jim felt the space he occupied at the bar diminishing as the questions became more personal.

He had been entrusted with Freddie’s care and privacy, now he walked a fine line that could ruin his budding career.

Jim took a deep breath trying to centre himself. His heart beating ferociously.

“I dunno” he said to them both standing slowly to leave, before draining the last of his pint.

It was crucial he said no more.

Sylvia placed a hand on his forearm. “Jim - have you? It’s a huge job caring for another man - 24/7 from what I’m seen.”

Inexplicably tears formed in the corner of Jim’s eyes. Perhaps a drink had not been a good idea tonight. He had to get away before he too was derailed.

**********************

Freddie’s smile was enormous as he sipped delicately from his champagne flute.

Life – this life was perfect!

The room shimmered with people. Shiny people, all looking fantastic. All who seemed to adore him.

No one was asking rude, irrelevant questions. No one jostled him, or raised eyebrows at his choice of attire.

He stood alone, but felt far from lonely.

It had never occurred to him before that the lack of strange hands on his body would feel like relief.

Freddie couldn’t help but tap his foot to the music. His head nodding in time.

He kept one eye on Jim looking uncomfortable at the bar, and giggled to himself. Neither Stan or Sylvia was likely to hit on his man. He was safe there.

Freddie couldn’t remember a time when everything in his life had been so perfect.

He could only dream about a life such as this as he lie in his narrow dorm room bed aching and cold. 

Jamie, Deaky, his outburst earlier, pushed to the furthest corner of his mind. He had been dramatic.

Tonight, this is what was real.

Freddie skimmed a hand over the fabric of his catsuit. He was nearly happy with the way that looked on his body too. Even Joe had complimented him at dinner.

Freddie was overcome by a bout of coughing. Even that wasn’t important. It didn’t hurt his chest nearly as bad as it had. It had all been a big fuss about nothing.

Freddie turned his attention to the stage.

The strip act could be better.

The lady looked more like a fella – and not in a nice way. Her sequin encrusted claret dress was in poor taste, and really did not go with the silver satin gloves.

How Freddie craved those gloves. They would go great with his outfit…or perhaps just one…

In fact, she could do with a little training in the art of performance.

Freddie giggled as the most recent glass of champagne overcame him.

He grabbed Roger’s arm as he passed by. “I can do soooo much better than her Roggie” he hiccuped as he tugged at the zip in the back of his catsuit. “I’m gonna show her how it’s done. Think that chandelier can take my weight?”

In seconds, Freddie had rolled the sleeves down his arms, and was naked to the waist.

With an enormous grin he tied the sleeves in a knot at his waist and began running towards the stage, leaving a number of horrified calls in his wake.

*********************

Jim turned quickly as he heard his name called, a welcome distraction from Sylvia’s line of questioning.

Roger’s was the loudest “J I M…..grab him!!!”

Freddie was inches from him, running at full pelt, pulling his catsuit over his hips, wearing the biggest grin Jim had ever seen.

With lightening reactions Jim flung out an arm pulling Freddie clean off his feet.

Freddie collapsed laughing at Jim’s feet, as Jim attempted to yank him up by his arm like a willful toddler.

Roger rushed to the group helping Freddie to his feet, pointing at the stripper he cried “He was gonna strip!” he said gasping for breath, hands to his knees.

Jim felt a firm clap to his back.

“A firm hand son” said Stan brushing the beer from his mouth with the back of his hand.

************************

The chink of empty glasses brought a smile to Jim’s face as the barmaid struggled with the door to the kitchen.

There but for the grace of God, he thought. Just weeks ago that had been him.

Freddie staggered to his feet to hold the door for her, she flushed, and with a bowed head mumbled her thanks and hurried through.

Jim smiled. Freddie was beginning to be treated like a rock star, but it hadn’t diminished his manners or humility.

“It means we leave for Japan tomorrow” said John. “You’ll be playing the night after. There will be no stop over, no chance to recover from jet lag, no visiting your families. We’ll sort your visas as soon as you say the word.”

Deaky had his head in his hands, with Brian and Roger either side, a hand on each shoulder. It would be a while before he saw Veronica again.

Freddie collapsed back into the seat beside Jim, and folded chest first onto the table, reaching out a hand to squeeze Deaky’s.

“Are you well darling?” he slurred. “No head pain, or blurred vision?”

Deaky ruffled Freddie’s hair with a smirk “I think I’m doing better than you Fred.” His thumb brushed over the cold metal of Freddie’s ring. “That a new one Fred?” he asked with curiosity.

Freddie’s tired smile was enormous.

“I’m r-really good thanks” Freddie nodded, his cheek brushing the sticky table.

Jim rubbed Freddie’s back. “Can we do this is the morning John? This one is ready for sleep.”

“Not tired!” Freddie protested with a sleepy smile “…pissed, and deliciously sore.”

“Urgh! Fuck Fred!” shrieked Brian.

A slow grin spread across Roger’s face as he took a drag on his cigarette. Nodding he patted Jim’s back. “Good man. You should be proud.”

“I’ll never get used to that” Jim said, wiping a hand across his glowing face.

*******************

The silver moon poured light upon the lone figure standing in the window.

Jim shivered in just a pair of jeans as he surveyed the streets of New York city, having fallen quiet at the very late - or very early – hour.

Winter was coming, and Jim was envisaging ‘losing’ most of his warm clothing.

Truth be told Jim couldn’t wait to leave. New York had been hell, and his thoughts turned momentarily to Sylvia’s words about the fragility of his own mental health.

Jim didn’t want his overriding memories of New York to be his jealousy, and the subsequent pain of nearly losing Freddie.

He longed that life would grant him a second opportunity to visit New York, to do it all again, but better!

He turned to check on his sleeping man with a loving eye.

Wrestling Freddie into bed had been interesting. Drunk, almost certainly drugged, and exhausted despite his protestations, Freddie had been all long limbs.

A lovable immovable octopus.

Removing his tight fitting clothing had been something of a Krypton Factor challenge. Getting him to the bathroom had proven impossible, and Jim hoped that Freddie would stir shortly and realise for himself that he needed to use the toilet.

Freddie reminded Jim of an infant – sprawled on his back, legs akimbo, snoring softly, with an arm slung over his face. He would lose feeling in that arm, and then there would be a fuss.

Jim chuckled silently.

He loved Freddie more than life itself.

Sylvia …and in fact Stan …had a point. Jim had never been responsible for another human being before, this relationship was like no other.

It did not come with a Haynes manual.

Freddie was thriving on Jim’s care and affection. Despite his growing superstar status, he never expected specialist treatment.

The simple things, the self-care that people gave themselves every day was missing in Freddie. If someone else didn’t ensure he was warm and fed, he wouldn’t pursue those comforts for himself.

Freddie was like a child whose teachings had been abandoned in infancy. He had never quite caught up, but in the care of others, he excelled.

Jim had become inadvertently responsible for his lover’s well being, but how he relished the opportunity. Anything for the man who cared so little for himself, and so much for others.

“Come to bed darling” said a small voice in the dark. “You have a huge day tomorrow. Your first visit to Japan. I don’t want you to be tired.”

There it was.

The need to ensure that Jim was cared for.

It suddenly became clear to Jim what he had to do. He had to lead by example.

Between them – between him and Freddie they could conquer his demons, then the world.

Jim removed his jeans and climbed into bed, grabbing Freddie’s blanket as he went, first wrapping it around himself before inviting Freddie into the cocoon.

He placed a noisy kiss to Freddie’s cheek. “Night night princess.”

Jim flicked off the light.

***************************End of Part 1*********************************


	39. Encounter: Shooting Star - Fluff and Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two - London
> 
> Queen return home to London after their tour of the USA and Japan to new beginnings.  
Freddie and Jim have a lot of questions and insecurities about what their future will hold, but a new addition to the family, and an unexpected memory of New York seals the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sure by now you are thoroughly confused lovies! Didn’t we just send the band to Japan at the end of Part 1 I hear you ask, scratching your heads.   
No, you are not going insane.   
When John Reid threw the tour of Japan into the mix, he did't consulted with me - the author – anymore than I knew Jim was going to propose to Freddie! Sometimes the passion of this fic runs away with me and events pour onto the page that were not in my story plan. Japan is a pretty big one!  
So….the last two chapters of Shooting Star follow the boys on their return to London after Japan, which leaves me with a pretty big question – would you like to read about Queen’s time in Japan?  
I’m mindful that both Encounters and Shooting Star have been very long fics, and I really don’t want anyone to roll their eyes and yawn ‘another Encounters!’ but if you feel that the Japan tour is something you would like to read please let me know.   
You can also message me on IG or Tumblr if you would like to chat
> 
> I do hope you are all keeping safe and well during this uncertain time. The fandom is a great place of strength and salvation for me - mainly as I have been working around 13 hours a day and find it difficult to catch a break -but I love to see the energy with which people continue to write, draw, and play music. So inspiring! Is anyone else also enjoying Brian and Roger's little music lessons?   
I do hope this chapter cheers you up a little, and leaves you feeling warm and safe. Enjoy! xx

Jim lie face down on his bed.

His arms and legs spread apart. His head tilted slightly off the pillow. Just far enough to allow his voluminous snores to escape.

Freddie hadn’t expected Jim to fall asleep so quickly. Jim was always the sentinel, the stalwart, the last man standing.

Perhaps he hadn’t expected the heat of Freddie’s passion at 4 am.

Jet lag had divided the two men.

Freddie was wide awake, and excited to have Jim to himself.

Jim had fought hard, but the last of his energy had escaped on a powerful cry when Freddie had cried out too draped over his shoulder, softly moaning in his ear, breathing hard.

Freddie had not taken no for an answer, using first his mouth to drive Jim over the edge, before persuading him to roll over and let Freddie have his gentle way.

Now Freddie lay beside him, repeatedly stroking a feather light finger down his arm, which became a number of fingers playing Jim’s skin like a piano when Freddie became lost in the music that was in his head.

The light from the hallway outlined the bedroom door.

Jim had insisted he leave it open a crack in case Freddie awoke disoriented in the night. He had also left a gap in the curtains so the streetlight could shine through.

Jim had promised that tomorrow he would hang the fairy lights he had bought for the tent they had camped in during the summer.

Jim had instinctively known that Freddie would like those on the wall around his bed. That should he awake in the night, he wouldn’t have to guess what each of the dark shapes was in the room, his imagination making Freddie see monsters in shadows, and threat in the folds of soft furnishings.

The cause of Freddie’s fear was never discussed.

The word ‘nightmares’, or ‘those dreams’ never came to the fore.

Freddie assumed that Jim was afraid to raise the subject. He surely didn’t want to explain them.

They were behind him now anyway, Freddie would prove that to Jim.

He’d kept them hidden for this long, why would now be any different?

It was only because he and Jim had been thrown together on tour, that the intensity and frequency of the dreams had been obvious.

Roger knew that Freddie sometimes awoke in a fit.

Freddie trusted that Roger would never say. He had too much on him.

Freddie had been so proud when he had surprised Jim by saying he wanted to come home with his husband tonight, instead of staying with the boys.

Now Freddie was wondering if he had made a mistake.

He shivered, but he wasn’t really cold.

Not underneath so many blankets and duvets.

Not close to the heat of Jim’s skin, but he could feel it coming on; the cold sweats, the nausea, the horrible feeling of panic he felt when left alone.

Jim had been so attentive on tour, but they were home now, back in London with nothing in the pipeline.

He supposed it was inevitable really now the tour was over.

Jim would leave.

Jim would worry that there would be no more tours, no more gigs, that the rock star Freddie Mercury was no more, and he was left holding nothing more than a jobless art graduate.

He should have stayed with the boys tonight.

He should have been working at the piano instead of lying in bed sleepless. More melodies. Something different. Something to get even the most stoic of foot tapping, that what he needed now.

Something that made him special.

Something that made Jim want to stay.

Freddie reached for his sketch of the kitten that Jim had pinned to the bed head.

He flicked it over and read out the words he had written during his terror gripped time at Jamie’s apartment. “I don’t want to die, I sometimes wish I had never been born at all.”

Suddenly Freddie snapped the paper away from him, curling small into Jim’s back as though his thoughts could somehow be held away from his body.

Deep down he knew it was true.

If he was ever going to produce anything of note, anything that made the world stand up and listen to him, he would have to bare his soul.

Use his pain, filter his memories, allow the world a glimpse …just a glimpse of what was inside.

Jim wouldn’t leave the vocalist of the biggest band in the world – would he?!

Freddie twiddled with the ring on the third finger of his right hand.

The ring he was so proud to wear.

Running the nail of his thumb firstly along the underside, then over the tiny clasps which held the sparkles tightly in their place.

Jim had told him that the presence of the cold hard metal on his finger made Jim’s love for him tangible.

Something he could see, something he could touch.

A weight on his finger.

He still wished Jim was here now present in mind as well as body.

Overcome, Freddie curled closer into Jim’s back, wrapping an arm and leg over Jim possessively as though huddling for warmth.

“Please don’t go” he whispered, as a lone tear dribbled down his cheek onto Jim’s neck.

A sleepy hand grasped his arm, and almost inaudible words found Freddie ear. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Freddie nuzzled his cheek into Jim’s neck and the world faded away.

******************

Jim awoke slowly to find he was staring at the white ceiling of his own home.

It was funny - being back home. The home he had been so sure he would lose just weeks ago.

What a crazy fairy tale few weeks it had been, starting that fateful day he had lifted Freddie down from the podium at the Market Tavern.

It had started out as just another boring Friday night.

All of it – every event, every change, every facet of his new life was down to Freddie.

For a timid man, the charismatic effect Freddie had on those around him was phenomenal.

Jim raised his arms above the blanket, and poked his feet out from under the bedding seeking cool air.

Sharing a bed with Freddie was tantamount to sleeping in a furnace….in more ways than one, and Jim nearly chuckled out loud.

He would put the fairy lights up today.

Perhaps Freddie would like those to twinkle over his bed while he slept. He also needed to clean the scatter cushions and throws from the tent. Freddie would enjoy having those in his bedroom to cocoon in as autumn became winter.

Jim folded his arm behind his head.

Others things would need to change too.

He couldn’t keep shadowing Freddie now that they were back home. They both had to adjust to some semblance of a normal distance from one another. Room to grow, things to talk about when they did come together.

Jim didn’t want to be apart from Freddie for a single moment, but in his head he knew that was unhealthy.

He also knew that the need was spawned by the ugliness that took place right before Freddie was kidnapped. A natural desire to protect his young lover tinged by grubby shades of jealousy, guilt, and culpability.

A hangover from their argument.

Freddie had healing to do, but in this case Jim’s need for healing was probably greater.

Jim couldn’t wait to start college next week.

He would have the opportunity to learn his field from the very bottom.

The application of law, where to guard, what to look for in a crowd. He knew that’s where the healing began. From knowing he could do everything in his power to protect Freddie, instead of worrying he fell short and plugging the gaps with too much emotion.

He could do both, but the switch between bodyguard and lover would need to be stark. As big a contrast as that between rock star and boyfriend. Freddie was a true professional at making the switch. Jim would learn from the best.

For the time being there were no tours on the horizon, but knowing John Reid as he did, Jim knew that wouldn’t be the case for long!

Jim almost wished the boys could have a little down time. A time to shake out their feathers, re-group, and for creativity to flow.

For now, he was very happy just to be Freddie’s lover.

With a smile Jim burrowed back into the pile of blankets to find him, wrapping his arm around Freddie’s warm sleepy body, and pulling him softly against his chest.

Freddie almost purred.

A sign he was trying to rouse, trying to raise the energy to match his partners passion, but he was failing.

The lure of sleep was still too great.

“Sweetheart” Jim nuzzled his face against Freddie’s warm cheek.

“Mmmm” Freddie mumbled, resting blissfully in his nest.

Jim wouldn’t disturb him, not yet, Freddie had worked harder than imaginable in Japan, and Jim would be happy if Freddie spent the whole day in bed to recuperate.

All of this was so new to Freddie, waking up in bed with his husband, in a home Jim hoped he would make his own.

For all his promiscuity he had always gone home alone until Jim came into his life.

Freddie was only just learning how good sex could be in a morning, when he was sleepy, and warm, and soft.

Before the events and responsibilities of the day took hold.

Before he was able to worry about not being good enough to please his partner, not being enough to make him stay.

Jim loved morning sex. It was his favourite. Freddie excelled at the strenuous and gymnastic, which Jim enjoyed immensely, but Jim surpassed at bringing Freddie to an intense and satisfying climax before he fully awoke.

Jim smiled, he was the cat that got the cream whenever one of the boys said ‘Freddie is so creative right now, he’s so focused!’ Or John Reid said ‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing to keep him level, but keep doing it – who’s your dealer?!’

Jim would never tell how he was keeping Freddie satisfied – he would never kiss and tell, period. He did worry that Freddie might get bored, but for now it was working.

Being careful to be quiet, Jim grabbed the lube from the cabinet beside his bed.

Pouring some onto his hand, and then running the oiled flat of his palm down Freddie’s stomach, enjoying the gentle twitch of nerves, and the rise of goose bumps on warm skin.

He reached further, and sure enough Freddie was already hard – painfully hard.

Jim wrapped a slick hand around his cock and stroked slowly, eliciting breathy gasps from Freddie.

“How’s that feel sweetheart? Is that ok?” Jim whispered.

“Mmmmm” Freddie purred sleepily.

Jim stroked, increasing the pressure, but never the speed.

The soft gasps and subtle involuntary movements of Freddie’s body turned Jim on immensely, and he couldn’t help but push his own erection into Freddie’s buttocks seeking pressure.

Freddie began to tremble. His eyes still gently closed, panting out little moans as his body moved in rhythm with Jim’s strokes.

Jim pressed a kiss to Freddie’s cheek. “Is that good sweetheart?”

Suddenly Freddie pushed back against Jim, trying to take him inside.

Jim whined at the feeling. “You’re not ready honey.”

Freddie moaned softly, and pushed back again.

Jim poured some more lube on his hand, and carefully over his own sensitive cock.

Freddie had a sexual power over Jim that he had never experienced before. He was no school boy, but he could lose control just from the movements of Freddie’s body, and the pornographic sounds he made.

Jim carefully pushed a slick finger into Freddie, loving the sounds he was making now. Pushing back against Jim’s hand for more.

“Should I stop baby? You’re very sleepy,” Jim asked, a little concerned.

“Yes” Freddie whispered, chilling Jim to the core.

“Ok huney, just relax” Jim whispered, placing a tender kiss to Freddie’s cheek as he withdrew as gently as possible.

Jim rolled Freddie towards him, cradling him close to his chest, rocking him gently, scattering kisses into his hair.

“I’ll got you baby, you go back to sleep” Jim crooned.

Frustrated hands gripped Jim’s forearm. “Why have you stopped?!” Freddie shrieked with sleepy outrage. “That was just getting nice!”

Jim pulled back staring into Freddie’s upturned face astounded.

“You said to stop….you said you were tired….I…” bumbled Jim trapped between arousal and disgrace.

Freddie rolled dramatically onto his side, pushing his bottom hard against Jim. “I said I was sleepy. Sire me cowboy!” he cried.

“What?” Jim shrieked on a relieved laugh. “What did you just say?!” he chuckled as Freddie started to giggle too. “Is that going to be our safe word?”

Jim pushed the head of his cock inside slowly, carefully, lazily with a loud sigh.

God! Freddie felt so good. So soft and warm. His body not quite ready, Jim didn’t hurry. Pressing soft sweet kisses into Freddie’s neck, Jim tucked himself against Freddie’s back.

Inside, but hardly moving. Absorbing every pulse, every breath, every nuisance of pleasure Jim knew his partner was feeling.

Freddie trembled in Jim’s arms, the pleasure of his cock pushed up against his sensitive prostate.

Freddie squeezed Jim’s arm. “Please” the mood changed, the word barely a whisper.

“Good boy” Jim cooed as he squeezed a hand down the length of Freddie’s cock, and started to move his hips slowly eliciting a moan from Freddie.

“Aaah baby, what do you do to me?!” Jim growled into Freddie’s ear.

“I need you” Freddie whispered.

“I need you too baby” Jim’s words breaking on a moan “is that good? I love it like this. I want to do this forever with you.”

Freddie gripped Jim’s arm tightly, as the hand on his cock picked up the pace.

He arched his back, resting his head onto Jim’s shoulder, surrendering himself to the pleasures that rippled along his spine.

Freddie felt completely helpless, as he was smothered with kisses. The sounds coming from his mouth increasing as Jim brushed against the most sensitive parts of his body.

Suddenly Jim stopped.

“Freddie…..” he asked “….are you wearing those damn socks?”

**********************

“Will you be alright here alone for half an hour? I really need to pop out. I know you don’t like being alone, but….I need to buy some groceries. There is nothing in the house for us to eat” Jim whispered in Freddie’s ear.

Freddie’s eyes snapped open and he attempted to turn in Jim’s embrace to look at him. “Are you ok darling? Is something wrong?”

Jim smiled brightly, he couldn’t help but be excited by what was to come.

“I’m feeling great honey. I just….” Jim thought it best not to lie to Freddie “…have a surprise for you and I need to go get it. Stay here in bed, I’ll lock you in. Would you like some music on while I’m gone?”

Freddie nodded tentatively, he wasn’t a fan of surprises, and Jim couldn’t help but chuckle. Freddie was the antithesis of a teen being left at home alone for the first time – he hated it.

*************************

Jim couldn’t keep the smile from his face in anticipation of the look on Freddie’s.

He looked down at the ball of warm black fluff curled up against his chest.

She was tiny.

Smaller than the hand she was resting in, and Jim couldn’t believe something so small could contain such life.

He lifted the kitten to his face and rubbed his nose in the fur. “You’re going to be loved so much little one.”

Jim paused momentarily, and put his ear to the bedroom door.

Silence.

The tiny kitten chose the quietest moment in which to cry and Jim sniggered. She would be a little diva like her Daddy.

Jim carefully pushed open the door.

The bedding was arranged exactly how he had left it.

Freddie was still tucked up inside the nest, fast asleep.

Jim crouched beside Freddie’s head, he was so peaceful, and Jim was transported back to a morning in Liverpool when he was also crouched beside a sleeping Freddie, a time he couldn’t touch him.

Jim was reluctant to wake him, but not so reluctant that excitement didn’t take over.

Jim carefully peeled back the duvet from over Freddie’s head and tucked it around the back of his neck, barely containing a giggle when the ever vigilant sleeper didn’t stir at all.

Jim was overcome with the urge to kiss his beautiful dusky pink lips, but he refrained, not wanting to startle Freddie. His curls were already starting to grow out, and Jim was warmed to see the wild child was returning.

The little kitten cried again, demanding attention.

Jim rubbed a thumb gently over Freddie’s warm cheek. “Darling” he whispered “Come on baby, wake up, somebody really wants to meet you.”

Dazed brown eyes fixed upon him.

Freddie’s lips fell open as he took a deep breath trying to rouse himself.

He reached out a hand to Jim’s free one, clasping it as he pushed his head up from the pillow, and blinking tried to focus on Jim’s smiling face.

“What’s going on?” he asked groggily.

With one hand, Jim arranged Freddie’s pillows so he could sit down beside him.

He gently laid the kitten on the bed beside Freddie.

“Happy belated birthday darling.”

The kitten shuffled, timidly approaching the face before her, padding softly at her Daddy’s cheek before withdrawing as though nervous that she would be in trouble. Her tiny pink tongue poked out in concentration.

Freddie sat up carefully, tenderly picking the kitten up, snuggling her under his chin, and gently stroking her fur.

“Oh! Oh my God! You are so beautiful!” Freddie lifted the kitten to his face, looking into her microscopic eyes, then down to her tummy. “She’s a little girl!” Freddie exclaimed in awe.

“She’s so tiny!” whispered Freddie, voice crackly from over use and sleep. “She’s adorable. Where has she come from darling?”

“She’s all yours sweetheart.” Jim smiled softly. “ I asked Brian, to ask Kashmira to look for the perfect kitten for you while we were away. She’s only just old enough to stay with you as of today, she’s very young to be away from her Mum. She will live with us – here or with the boys – wherever you decide will be your home, and when you go on tour, Kash will look after her for you.”

Freddie contained the little kitten entirely in both hands, and dropped a kiss on her head.

“She’s my own kitten?” Freddie asked disbelieving.

Jim chuckled “Yes darling, all yours. A little black kitten just as you wished for. What would you like to call her?”

Freddie thought for a while before he whispered “Ebony.”

With a careful finger, Freddie tickled the kitten’s chin. The tiny kitten purred so loudly that Freddie gaped with astonishment that something so small could make such a sound. Jim however, was familiar with the concept.

“I think Ebony likes her name sweetheart.”

“Ebony is the only girl in our group. I hope she doesn’t feel left out” Freddie pondered.

“I thought it would be good for you to have a little lady in your life. Someone for you to care for” Jim wrapped an arm around Freddie’s shoulder, stroking a contented Ebony.

“She’s so timid” whispered Freddie, struggling to comprehend first his wakefulness, then how Jim had managed to keep such a wonderful surprise to himself. “Her fur is so black.”

“Hmmmm….” said Jim amused, running his fingers through Freddie’s hair “Know anyone else like that?”

“She seems so helpless” said Freddie with amazement.

“Sweet little Ebony is totally helpless sweetheart. She only has you in the world, she needs you for her food and water, to keep her warm, to give her cuddles, and play with her. She needs you for everything. She will absolutely dote on you.”

Jim squeezed Freddie, then took a deep breath before continuing.

“That means you need to stay safe and healthy so that you can care for her” he said carefully .

Freddie pondered on that for a while, before holding Ebony up to his face, as a collage of painful images playing through his mind; being trapped in Jamie’s apartment, his drug fuelled days with Paul Prenter, being cornered in the club by Jim Connors, and finally of himself trying to take his own life.

“I promise I will take good care of you little Ebony. I’ll never leave you.”

Freddie looked down at the ring on the third finger of his right hand.

Jim has told him that he had to think of the ring as a promise, not as a present. A promise that he was loved. A promise that no matter how hard things got, that even if he and Jim fought, that Jim’s love was as solid as the cold metal on his finger.

Freddie turned to Jim. “I love her so much darling. She’s the best present ever, thank you.” Freddie leaned to meet Jim’s lips softly.

“You’re very welcome honey. I love you.”

Freddie looked again at the ring on his finger before smiling widely and proclaiming “I love you more.”

*************************

The two men and a little lady enjoyed some tea while slumped against the pillows.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Freddie asked Jim with a huge yawn, rubbing his eye with one hand, as Ebony padded the other with her tiny paws.

“Well….” started Jim. “We have John Reid’s gathering this evening. Seemingly he’s invited the great and the good. Until then, you and Ebony can spend the day here in bed.”

“Huh?” said Freddie, one eyebrow raised. “We can’t fuck in front of Ebony” he whispered quietly so the little kitten wouldn’t hear.

Jim laughed loudly, and Freddie comically covered Ebony’s ears – once he had located them.

“Ebony is very small” Jim started, not really sure where he was going with this, and even more disbelieving that this was a rock star he was trying to hoodwink. 

“She’s had a very busy exciting day up until now, so she will be very tired, you need to show her what we do when we’re tired. So you snuggle down here” said Jim, rearranging the quilts and pillows. “Tuck Ebony here against your body, so she feels like she is snuggling up with her Mum, but don’t put too many blankets over her, she has fur, your body heat is enough.”

Jim laid down beside Freddie on top of the duvet, moaning softly contentedly as he snuggled his little family under his arm. “There, that’s comfy isn’t it? Is Ebony settling?”

“Get into bed” ordered Freddie.

“I’m gonna hold you until you’re asleep, then I’ll go downstairs and get some jobs done.”

Freddie clutched Jim’s arm “I don’t need to sleep anymore darling, don’t go!”

“Well obviously YOU don’t need to sleep sweetheart, but Ebony won’t settle if you don’t lie very still. You need to close your eyes, show Ebony what to do. I’ll watch her and tell you when she is sleeping” said Jim, struggling to hold his laughter inside.

“When I go downstairs, I’ll leave the bedroom door open for you.” said Jim.

“No, close it” said Freddie, defeat accepted.

“Who’s gonna hurt you while I’m here darling?” Jim gently pressed.

Freddie shrugged. “I don’t want Ebony to escape.”

Jim listened to the silence, and the occasional passing car in the distance. His ears buzzed with the strangeness of the silence after sound checks, and rock venues full of excited people.

He raised his head carefully to see Ebony was fast asleep curled up in her Daddy’s hand.

“Ebony has gone darling” Jim whispered.

Silence echoed, and Jim looked closely at Freddie’s face. He too was fast asleep.

Jim smiled and pulled him closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He breathed deeply, inhaling the warmth and scent of his lovers skin.

The jobs could wait.

***********************

“Yes, I’m sure he would” Jim sniggered. “I don’t see that being a problem do you? Oh, wait, I hear Freddie moving around now.”

Jim craned his neck around the stairs, that Freddie was making his way down in just a pair of Jim’s boxers, and his favourite socks with Ebony pressed close to his chest. “Sweetheart, I’ve got Brian on the phone. His Mum has got a cat basket, a collar and some toys – but they’re all pink – is that a problem?”

“No!” Freddie said as though it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Ebony is a little lady, she would love pink dear.”

Jim went back to the phone “Freddie said do bears shit in the woods.”

Freddie giggled.

“Finger food” said Jim cryptically into the receiver. “Yes, definitely finger food for tiny appetites. Ok see you there.”

“Finger food?” said Freddie, one eyebrow raised “Is Brian’s Mum catering for Ebony too?”

Jim roared with laughter. “Don’t you be giving Ebony your grandiose ideas! No, the finger food is for John’s gathering this evening.

Freddie giggled, then sniffed the air with wide eyes and broad smile. “What’s that delicious smell darling?”

“That sweetheart is your lunch. Irish stew, one of my childhood favourites, I thought you might like to try some?”

Freddie licked his lips with exaggeration. “Mmmmm yes please, when did we last eat again? I’m starving!” he exclaimed, wrinkling up his face in concentration.

“Well…I tried to get you to snack on the plane remember, but all that turbulence….” Jim didn’t really want to carry on, he didn’t want to remind Freddie of the flight home from Japan.

“You need to take Ebony out into the garden sweetheart before she pees everywhere. We haven’t got her litter area set up yet. When she’s done her business, there’s some pouches of kitten milk on the breakfast bar, try her on that first. I’ve bought some kitten food too, but she might be too small yet. You prepare Ebony’s lunch, and I’ll prepare yours, that a deal?” Jim tapped Freddie’s bottom, steering him towards the door, but just at that moment the washing machine burst into the spin cycle capturing Freddie’s attention.

“Are those my…? Oh my God darling, are my costumes in there?” a horrified hand was over his mouth.

“No sweetheart” Jim assured him calmly. “There’s just your little cotton tee’s in there, and jocks and socks. You’ve nothing to wear here Freddie.”

“My tee’s aren’t little!” Freddie whaled in horror, as Jim smiled nervously. “Please tell me you haven’t put my silk boxers in there?”

Jim pointed to a small basket on the counter top “Your …delicate’s are in there darling. Don’t worry. Everything is in hand.”

Freddie bent close and peered into the washing machine. Clutching Ebony close to his chest in dismay. He straightened up suddenly nearly headbutting Jim who hovered nervously over him.

“Where are my costumes?” he shrieked.

Jim turned Freddie gently by the shoulders so he could see his costumes hanging neatly over the door in dry cleaning bags.

Freddie gasped in panic suddenly unable to get his breath.

Jim cupped his face in large hands. “Sweetheart, it was meant to be a surprise, but I can’t stand it when you get this upset over such small details. Mum is visiting tomorrow. She’s so excited to see you, and she’s going to work all this washing thing out for us, and send the things she can’t manage to a professional…..ok?”

Freddie nodded with a smile, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He squeezed Jim tightly. “I can’t wait to see your Mum. I’ve been dying to thank her in person for the beautiful flowers.”

With that Freddie danced towards the door, stealing a cigarette from Jim’s pack as he went.

*********************

Jim should have been stirring the stew on the hob, but he allowed himself a moment to stand at the window, and look out into the garden.

His lover was having an in depth conversation with the tiny spec of fluff that seemed more interested in chasing the autumnal leaves dancing in the breeze than doing her business.

Despite shivering violently, Freddie crouched, and gently picked her up, kissing her forehead and popping her back down to try again patiently.

Jim thought his heart would explode with love for his little family.

He hoped that Freddie would choose to make this house his home, but he would follow Freddie anywhere.

He had expected the usual rash of reasons and explanations for why he should crawl into his bed in Roger’s room when they had returned home, but they hadn’t come.

Jim had slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket ready to go, and Freddie had gently slipped his hand into Jim’s and wished the boys goodnight.

Jim was still wearing said jacket when he had been abruptly halted on the stairs of his own home, his cock released from his jeans with some urgency, and a smiling twinkly eyed Freddie dropping to his knees before him. Making the most of their privacy – finally – as though he had been starved of having Jim in his mouth, a situation urgently needed to be rectified. No arguments there, Jim smiled to himself, as the pan on the hob boiled over.

Jim flushed a little as he remembered what came after.

How he had allowed Freddie to top him.

He had not allowed any other lover to do that since he had found his place in the bedroom. Like everything, it was different with Freddie. He was so sweet and considerate. A gentle but ardent lover, and Jim found that he truly enjoyed it.

Once the Irish stew was back to simmering under control, Jim turned his attention to setting two places at the breakfast bar.

He had rummaged to the back of the cupboard earlier and found some small bowls – much like the bowls they had eaten miso soup from in Japan – they were the perfect size for Freddie’s portions, and Jim could always sneak an extra spoonful of the stew into Freddie’s bowl when he was distracted by the kitten.

The letterbox rattled as the mail plopped unceremoniously onto the doormat.

Jim turned the stove down further and made his way into the hallway to collect the mail.

There are on the mat were two post cards.

Each was from New York. One was a photograph of the Statue of Liberty on a sparkling sunny back drop, the other was the Empire State Building against a night skyline.

Jim smiled at the memories.

He flipped the cards over and was astonished to see that both cards were addressed to him.

An Indian recipe was written in neat handwriting on each card which was simply signed ‘love Joe x’

The back door blew open on a bluster as Freddie appeared white with cold, with a contented Ebony snuggled under his arm.

“It’s bloody freezing out there!” Freddie shrieked, snuggling close to Jim for warmth.

“How did Joe get my address?” Jim asked playfully, his face screwed into an expression of faux suspicion.

“I gave him our address before I left New York” Freddie said, beginning to cough with the chill.

Jim steered Freddie back towards the kitchen where he pulled his woollen jumper from the pile of washing and dropped it gently over his head, carefully maneuvering it around Ebony.

He couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face.

“Does that mean….?” Jim nuzzled Freddie’s cheek with his own, pushing his body against the worktop. “....does that mean that this is also your home? That you have moved in? With me? Together? Ours?”

Freddie flushed. His eyes dropping before peering up at Jim nervously. Suddenly Jim was transported back to the day he had rescued Freddie from behind a toilet bowl at the Market Tavern. The day he had declared his love.

“If-if that’s ok darling? I mean….I’d understand if you need your space…or if…” Freddie bumbled shyly.

Jim wrapped his arms around Freddie lifting him off his feet, and holding him tightly against his body.

“Mind my kitten!” Freddie shrieked, making Jim laugh out loud.

“You make me the happiest man in the world Freddie. Of course I want you to live here with me” he cried, crushing Freddie’s lips with his in a passionate kiss. In seconds Freddie fuelled the kiss, his tongue dueling with Jim’s in a hot blooded dance – their dance.

“Mew” cried Ebony, snuggled between her loving fathers.

**************************

Jim switched off the stove ready to serve up the Irish stew, only to discover that his oven glove was missing.

He turned to the drainer to use a tea towel instead, but that was also missing.

Confused, he finally turned to Freddie “Have you seen the…..”

Freddie was on his knees folding the tea towel small to make a padded seating area for the little kitten, who was curled up in one side of Jim’s oven glove.

Freddie rose to his feet and clapped eyes on the little bowls, taking one from the place settings, he smiled and kissed Jim’s cheek “Thank you darling” before taking the bowl and pouring a little of Ebony’s milk into it, and setting it down onto the tea towel before the little kitten.

Jim rolled his eyes affectionately. “I can see I’m going to need some new kitchen ware – or is that kitten ware?!” he said with humour.


	40. Encounters: Shooting Star - Happy Birthday!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band gather for a surprise belated birthday party for Freddie at John’s house. Freddie, unable to leave his baby home alone takes Ebony to the party, and it’s an evening of double mischief! There are also a couple of surprise guests in attendance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well lovies, this is it! The final chapter of Shooting Star 😊   
In some ways I feel I should apologise for the length of this chapter, but I wanted to give our beloved boys a good send off. I also know there are a few readers among you who like to get comfortable with a glass of wine while you read Encounters – so this is for you 😊  
The observant among you will also notice the chapter count has increased. I couldn’t help it….I thought Shooting Star deserved an epilogue.  
I do hope you enjoy it!  
If you want to catch up with Freddie, Jim and Ebony in their new home, ‘Those are MY socks!’ would be the next step in their adventure – if you haven’t already read it. The epilogue to Shooting Star is not too far away lovies!

“I’m just saying…” Jim raised his hands in surrender “…she’s very young little darling. She’s not house trained. What are you going to do if she pees on your lovely satin trousers, or….OR John’s velvet sofa?!” Jim shuddered at the thought, as the two smartly dressed men made their way towards John’s home.

Freddie stopped sharp, his hands on his hips.

“We’re parents now darling. We can’t just leave Ebony home alone because she doesn’t fit in with our plans!” Freddie flung his arms up into the air in exasperation.

Jim snorted before breaking into laughter, causing Freddie to stamp his foot.

“Don’t laugh at me!” he yelped before turning away from Jim, the pain of humiliation shooting through his guts like a lightning strike.

Jim wrapped an arm around Freddie’s shoulder, pulling him tightly to his body. “I’m not laughing at you sweetheart, I promise. It’s just funny. Us bickering like an old married couple already about … child care of all things.”

Freddie snorted then, his hands to his own knees with hilarity.

He straightened up again, and pulled the pocket of his long line jacket open slightly.

A pair of enormous emerald eyes peered adoringly up at him. “But look darling” Freddie whispered, as Jim leaned over to check on his baby, cushioned cosily in his husband’s pocket.

“I think she looks like you” Jim quipped, and they burst into fresh laughter.

****************************

‘Happy Birthday John and Freddie!’

The banner was a sparkly foil affair strung across the entrance to John’s lavish home.

Beneath it - a smaller one - but the sentiment was just as well intended - ‘Congratulations Freddie and Jim!’

The first banner she understood.

She had been so excited to receive an invitation to such a swanky address.

In truth, she hadn’t been surprised to receive an invitation to Freddie’s birthday party.

She knew he wouldn’t just drop her once he found fame and fortune – not Freddie. She knew that she and Freddie would be close their entire lives.

Never before had she met a soul that complimented hers so well.

An artistic soul.

A sensitive soul.

One prone to hiding ones true self just a little deeper beneath the surface so as to not be so easily identified or exploited.

The sharing of her satin blouses was a little odd, as was the frequency with which her eyeliner went missing, but it was Freddie!

He was so creative.

A spirit genuinely free from customs and culture.

Or was he?…. raged a nagging doubt. One that had popped up a lot recently.

This wasn’t college any more.

This was real life.

No longer a fantasy played out in her bedroom.

The passage of time.

The landslide from boy to man.

Even a soul as fanciful as Freddie couldn’t escape reality – could he?

She had the greatest hope that one day she would be his wife.

**************************

Freddie squealed, clutching onto Jim as what sounded like a thousand party poppers exploded at once as he stepped into John’s kitchen.

Streamers floated down from the heavens like the winged seeds of the Sycamore, followed by balloons in a plethora of bold colours.

“Happy Birthday darling!” Jim whispered, his lips a smug smile pressed to Freddie’s cheek.

Freddie punched him gently, but his smile was wide, and his eyes glossy. “You bastard! I hate you all!”

A smiling blonde waitress with blood red lips handed the couple a glass of champagne, as their friends swarmed to congratulate them on their commitment to one another.

Although far too cool to rush to greet them, none were happier than Brian, Roger and Deaky who propped up the breakfast bar. Their smiles the brightest to see their young friend happy and cared for. Never having imagined in a million years that Freddie would win the heady race to matrimony.

John Reid chinked his glass to Freddie and Jim’s in turn. “Come on then – let’s see it?” he teased, a rare but genuine smile crossing his face.

Freddie smiled gleefully, before gently opening his pocket and pulling a sleepy Ebony out, holding the confused kitten towards John.

“What the fuck’s that?!” John scoffed. “You brought a fucking kitten to my party?” John dropped his forehead into his hand. His fingers wiping despairingly over his brow, but his mouth couldn’t resist forming an amused grin. “What the fuck have I taken on here?!” he muttered to himself.

Jim gently nudged Freddie “He meant the ring sweetheart” he laughed.

“Oh” Freddie giggled, handing the bemused Ebony to her Father, and holding his right hand up to allow the last of the evening sunshine to catch the gems.

John caught Freddie’s hand, bringing the ring closer to his eyes to take in the exquisite design, before brushing his lips to Freddie’s knuckles.

Their eyes locked in silent communication.

Abruptly, John turned his attention to Jim, clasping his hand in a grip of ferocious intent. “Well done that man. Well done.”

His clasp was that of a combatant, but his acceptance of second place in Freddie’s heart was genuine.

******************

“I see you got your window fixed” Freddie asked cheekily, raising one eye brow in John Reid’s direction.

John smiled warmly.

“What’s up with the window?” asked Brian, lobbing some food into his mouth.

“Nothing now” said John, smiling broadly. “A troubled young man threw a brick through it a wee while back.”

“Wasn’t Bill Reid was it? He nearly destroyed our front door!” muttered Brian sarcastically.

John shook his head sharply and mysteriously “Nope.”

He winked at Freddie, who blushed a little before dropping his gaze. “It’s dealt with and forgotten about.”

“Going soft John?” Roger chuckled.

John smiled. “No. I think I saw in that young man what Freddie saw in Jamie….someone who needed a bit of help - a leg up - someone to give them a break.”

“You’re a better man than me mate” said Brian with sarcasm.

Rising from his stool, John shook his head, and looked from Brian to Freddie cryptically. “No Brian…I’m not,” he said before heading off to refill his glass.

************************

“Mary darling!” Freddie freed his hand from Jim’s, and rushed to a woman as startling in her blonde beauty as Freddie was dark.

He enveloped the chic young woman in an ecstatic hug, clearly thrilled to see her. Placing an elegant kiss on each cheek in turn, before raising her hand to his lips for more kisses.

Had Jim not known better, he would have thought this was a prospective lover.

“Jim, Jim!” Freddie beckoned Jim over with a frantic wave. “Come and meet Mary darling.”

Jim held out a hand in greeting, accompanied by a warm smile. “Hello Mary, I’m Jim Hutton, Freddie’s….” Jim’s voice dropped away.

He didn’t know what to say.

Freddie’s amused eyes rolled conspiratorially.

“It’s alright darling, we can trust Mary.” Freddie squeezed Mary’s hand, warmth radiating from his eyes. “This is my darling husband, my dear. We had a beautiful ceremony in Japan.”

Mary clasped Jim’s outstretched hand with cool fingers.

She may have been exquisite in appearance, a dainty beauty, and quite the fashionista, but there her similarity to Freddie ended.

Freddie was shy in new company. Reserved – often to the point of tongue tied – but always warm, and very inquisitive.

Mary was a closed book.

“Pleased to meet you Jim” she said politely, appraising the new development with cool eyes.

“Let me get you a drink darling” Freddie cooed. “Then you simply must meet John, our manager and host for the evening.”

Brian waved a beer in Jim’s eye line, before raising his brows and placing the bottle on the mantle.

Freddie started to steer Mary and Jim towards the reception room, but Jim took his opportunity to escape.

He wrapped a long arm around Freddie’s hip squeezing him warmly, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You go and enjoy some time with your friends sweetheart, I’m gonna catch up with Brian.”

“Ok darling” Freddie agreed, reluctantly allowing Jim’s fingers to slip from his.

“Do you want me to take a turn with Ebony?” Jim offered, remembering that Freddie had slipped the kitten back into his pocket.

Freddie shook his head with an adoring glance towards his pocket. His raven curls now long enough to rustle on the collar of his jacket as he led Mary towards the door.

Jim knew there was a good chance that he looked crazy, but he couldn’t stop the contented smile that spread across his lips.

He had never been this happy.

****************************

“Who, or what is Ebony?” asked Mary softly, surreptitiously appraising the man beside her. The man she thought she knew completely.

Freddie was different.

He looked great – he always looked great – but he sparkled with a joy more dazzling than when he found a new outfit at the Kensington market, or chose the perfect lyric.

This was deeper.

This was contentment.

“Darling, we have so much to catch up” Freddie shrieked enthusiastically, wringing his hands with excitement. “But first, you must tell me about you? Doesn’t art school seem a million years ago?!” he emphasised, rolling his eyes. “How are your family?”

“Not a chance Freddie!” Mary feigned a laugh “You’re not changing the subject that easily. You got….married!” she whispered “…to a man!” a little more incredulously. “You can’t legally do that, so do tell me what that is all about?”

Mary stopped Freddie with a hand to his chest.

“Are you telling me you are gay?” she whispered conspiratorially.

It was the one thing he had known since puberty – perhaps before - but the only thing he could never tell this wonderful woman before him.

He didn’t deserve her.

They had been the closest of friends since he had arrived in London three years ago.

The dearest of allies.

Partners in crime, but he could never love her the way he knew she wanted to be loved.

He just couldn’t say it.

His parents adored her.

He couldn’t break her heart.

“Come on Freddie. You tell me everything else!” insisted Mary.

That was a lie too.

Freddie couldn’t meet her eyes.

A tiny paw reached up from the depths of Freddie’s jacket, followed by a tiny head, and an attention grabbing cry.

Mary grabbed Freddie’s shoulder in surprise. “Oh…oh….what a darling little face! Is this Ebony? Ebony is a kitten! What is he…she doing in your pocket Freddie?!” she cried, reaching a hand to the tiny kitten who attempted to nip her.

Ebony allowed daddy to pull her gently from his pocket once more to meet another of her guests.

“Ebony is my little girl Mary” Freddie confessed with pride. “She is my birthday present from Jim. Isn’t she adorable?”

“She is beautiful darling!” Mary exclaimed, taking advantage of Ebony’s newly found zen, to touch a finger to her velvety cheek.

“Seriously though Freddie, how well do you know this man? You go away for a couple of months and come back married…to a stranger….Freddie….and he’s a lot older than you….” Mary stopped for breath.

“Have you introduced Jim to your parents?” The question was direct, but her concern was genuine.

Freddie shook his head. His curls just long enough to hide his discomfort.

“You know my parents can never find out about this Mary. Think of them! How will they ever show their faces in the temple? I could never bring that shame to their door. Think of Kashmira!” Freddie confessed in a rush, realisation of the truth in his own statement taking his breath.

What would he do?!

“I think you should try Freddie - for your own sake” Mary continued.

“This is huge! How do you hope to hide it from them?” she whispered gently, knowing the pain his relationship with his parents caused Freddie. “Maybe they can help you decide a few things darling, make the right choice. We aren’t students any more Freddie. The choices we make affect the rest of our lives.”

“Darling, I LOVE Jim” Freddie insisted. “Jim is the right choice!”

“Freddie, you’re in love every five minutes!” Mary quipped, before continuing with seriousness. “How can you ever be happy darling, if you’re not honest with your parents?”

Freddie’s gaze fell on Ebony. “That’s what Jim said,” he muttered sadly.

“My God, darling!!” Freddie wheezed, suddenly clutching Mary. “Look over there…..no, not now!”

Mary glanced discretely over her shoulder at the faux fur coat that had just entered the room, held up only by a pair of enormous platform boots, and John Reid’s arm.

The coat turned slowly, and the man inside surveyed the room through gigantic sparkling glasses.

“Fuck me, that’s Elton John!”

*********************

“What do you think? Will these get you started?”

Jim riffled respectfully through the items laid out on the table before him.

Brian’s family were so kind.

Everyone in Freddie’s immediate circle was both kind and generous.

Two rare attributes in life.

Even rarer to find them in the same small group of people.

Brian was exactly like his father.

“Are you sure you won’t accept any money for these?” Jim asked Harold and Ruth May.

“No, not at all!” gushed Ruth. “When Jer told me that Freddie’s friends were getting him a kitten for his birthday, I remembered we had this stuff in the loft. We don’t need it anymore, and it’s all in good condition.”

“It’s in very good condition” Jim agreed, running his fingers around a pink suede collar, which was at least ten times too big for Ebony.

Jim was also not sure how Freddie would feel about restricting Ebony with a collar.

There was a plush pink bed for her which Jim knew instinctively that Freddie would adore. His attention turned to the pet carrier, which Jim picked up to admire.

“This will come in very handy this evening” he said, looking around for Freddie.

“What have you done with the kitten tonight Jim while you’re out?” asked Roger, taking a swig from his bottle.

Jim chuckled, his eyes softening as he remembered his and Freddie’s conversation. “Ebony is a guest at the party this evening.”

Roger’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“The kitten is in Freddie’s pocket” Jim laughed, realising as he said it out loud that the idea was preposterous. “He wouldn’t leave her at home alone. Accused me of bad parenting.”

Brian rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Are Freddie’s parents coming to the party?” Brian asked, slapping his mother’s hand away as she attempted to order his curls.

Jim stiffened.

“No! This is not their scene at all. I don’t think anyone invited them to be honest” Ruth said in hushed tones. “It’s not really our scene either. We only dropped in to wish Freddie a happy birthday, and drop this stuff off, we’ll be going shortly.”

“Probably best” Brian muttered under his breath. “….that Freddie’s parents aren’t here” he clarified.

“Freddie’s parents should be here” a clipped female voice cut across them. “He could probably use their guidance right now. He’s been away for so long.”

“Mary!” gushed Ruth, wrapping the girl into her arms. “It’s lovely to see you darling. It’s been too long.”

Suddenly a whistle rang out from a distant room.

It wasn’t a loud whistle, but it was shrill, and it put those that recognised the pitch instantly on edge.

Roger leapt up from his seat. “That’s Freddie’s whistle!”

Jim was already moving towards the door. “I didn’t realise he still had that thing.”

*************************

Brian grabbed Mary’s arm and steered her towards the buffet.

“What do you mean Mary?” he asked quizzically.

“Freddie has married a man Brian!” Mary whispered through her teeth as she selected a prawn cocktail. “A man!”

“Yes, he has” Brian confirmed scowling. “It’s legal now…..well not marriage….but same sex couples” Brian corrected himself. “Tell me you knew he was gay!”

“Well that’s hardly the point is it” Mary spat primly, as Brian’s eyes bore into her. “I’m not homophobic Brian. I care for Freddie very deeply. I had hoped you realised that….but what is his life going to be now? He can’t take Jim home to his family. If the press get hold of this he can kiss his career goodbye! What sort of a future will he have then?”

“Mary….” Brian took a deep breath. Everything Mary had said was the truth. “…look….Freddie is happy, alright? He is the happiest I have ever known him, and Jim’s a top bloke. I realise you’ve had a shock finding out about this tonight, but it’s their business, please don’t ruin it for them.”

Loud laughter wafted over from John’s table.

“It’s not done John or Elton’s career any harm” said Brian.

“No” Mary put a finger to her pursed lips “…not yet…”

“I mean it Mary…” Brian said sternly, “…don’t make trouble for them. Let them work it out.”

**********************

The boys followed their call, taking the stairs two at a time as the whistle grew louder.

Jim burst through a closed door, tumbling into John’s opulently furnished bedroom, with Roger stumbling behind him.

Freddie sat on John’s bed.

His feet were pattering nervously on the soft carpet.

His enormous eyes wide.

A hand repeatedly stroked an alarmed Ebony, who resembled a diminutive Blofeld’s cat in Freddie’s lap.

There was no one else in the room.

“What’s the matter baby?” Jim asked softly, tumbling to his knees while gently removing the whistle from Freddie’s clamped lips.

Freddie handed Ebony to Jim and leapt to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the window, a hand to his mouth.

Finally he stopped and flung out his hands dramatically.

“John’s boyfriend is here!” he whispered with urgency.

Jim’s eyes grew wide with questions. When Freddie didn’t embellish, he too held out his hands.

A knowing smile spread across Roger’s face, and he nodded slowly before hissing “Yessss” between his teeth.

Feeling excluded, and high on adrenaline from the rush to his husband’s aid, Jim shrieked “What?!”

“Don’t you know who John’s boyfriend is?” asked Roger with an owlish grin.

Jim shook his head. “Should I??”

“Elton. John” Roger said slowly.

It was Jim’s turn to have wide eyes.

“I can’t meet him” stated Freddie, starting to pace again “…but I really want to!...but there’s no way he would want to meet me” he continued his soliloquy.

Jim stood, placing a kiss on Ebony’s downy forehead before dropping her gently onto John’s bed, and turning his attention to Freddie.

He clasped Freddie’s cold hands between his own.

“Why wouldn’t John’s boyfriend want to meet you?” Jim asked gently, trying to make eye contact with Freddie. “Just forget for one moment that he is Elton John, and put yourself in his shoes. John has been on the road for weeks – wouldn’t you want to meet the man he’s been travelling with?! If I was him, I’d be quaking in my boots scared to meet the great rock God Freddie Mercury!”

With a tiny battle cry Ebony launched herself from the bed, snagging her claws into the weave of John’s silk shot curtains.

“Fuck!!” screamed Roger, pointing to the determined kitten as she began her ascent with unanticipated speed.

Eyes wide, resolute, intently focused; Jim recognised the expression on Ebony’s face and he reached out a large hand, wrapping it around her feathery body to halt her climb.

Freddie jumped up, a hand clasped to his mouth.

“Don’t hurt her!” he cried horrified as Ebony was completely dwarfed by just one of his husband’s hands.

“Help me!” whispered Jim “She’s dug her claws into the fucking curtains, and they’re massive!”

Jim supported Ebony while Freddie and Roger attempted to pull each of her delicate claws out of the silk one by one.

Just as she was free, a tiny trail ran down the fabric.

“Fuck!” Roger repeated “She’s pissed on John’s curtains!” 

Jim pulled a disgruntled Ebony close to his chest, narrowly missing Roger’s face, as she swiped with her recently freed claws.

“John’s curtains ! He’s gonna fucking kill us!” Roger growled.

With a hand still covering his mouth, Freddie started to giggle nervously. “Shit, we need to leave…..NOW!” he cried.

Writhing in discomfort, Jim handed Ebony to Freddie.

“I told you she was like you!” he snapped affectionately.

“I don’t piss on people’s curtains!” wailed Freddie.

Jim snorted nervously, “I mean…she’s a minx!”

Jim turned to pick up the pet carrier which had still been in his hand when he had rushed to his husband’s side

As realisation dawned, he flicked open the small gate. “Your chariot awaits madam.”

***************************

The party was in full swing when Freddie and Jim made their way back down to the reception.

Elton was tickling the ivories. A melody that Freddie recognised and longed to sing, but he held back, hovering on the brink of being brave enough to introduce himself.

Jim pushed him gently. “Go on darling. Go and say hello” he whispered, finding himself oddly more comfortable in the midst of a celebrity than his bold musical partner.

Jim adored the shy side to Freddie’s nature - despite it being at odds with the bold. He still couldn’t decide which was Freddie’s true personality, and suspected he would never know.

“He’s like a little lamb isn’t he?” Elton quipped to John, his eyes darting sideways, having clocked Freddie hovering in the distance.

“Sometimes” John smirked. “Ask him about the kitten in his pocket.”

Elton stopped playing abruptly. “He’s got a kitten in his pocket!” he repeated to John.

Freddie giggled.

“Not anymore” he whispered shyly. “Mary has taken Ebony outside.”

Elton plonked a piano stool down heavily beside him. He patted the stool loudly. “Come on then. I hear you’re a hot shot pianist.”

“Oh….I’m ok….” Freddie stammered. “I’m no concert pianist” he muttered, as he slid silently onto the stool.

“Let’s find out shall we, you take the top end” Elton instructed as he began to play.

Freddie was immediately lost in the melody.

His slim fingers raced across the keys with ease, as one hand crossed over the other, sliding subconsciously into the introduction to Death on Two Legs.

“Flamboyant isn’t he?” Elton remarked to John, who was the mirroring Jim, standing beside his man holding his jacket.

“John told me he wasn’t gay” Elton remarked to Jim. “I knew he was….I just knew it” he yelled at John, who appear to wither under the blush radiating from Jim’s face.

Freddie giggled, as Elton leaned across to him and whispered “What’s your real name?”

Freddie flushed before stammering “Fr…Freddie.”

“Yeah right” muttered Elton. “I’m Reginald Dwight” he whispered with a smile, continuing to play. “I hear you have a guitarist who wears clogs.”

Freddie laughed loudly. “Yes! He’s a terrific guitarist but he doesn’t even own shoes” he wailed, suddenly lowering his tone he whispered into Elton’s ear “Farrokh Bulsara.”

Elton held out his hand and whispered “Pleased to meet you Farrokh.”

“Where is Bernie with them drinks?” Elton bellowed, as though the man could hear him.

“Last I saw he was outside chatting up your blonde girlfriend” John winked at Freddie.

“Mary! Ooooooh!” Freddie’s eyes glimmered with mischief.

************************

Freddie leaned over the pool table, cue in hand, running a crooked finger slowly along the length and back again.

His attention not really on the choice of pot before him, but on Jim’s reaction.

Jim did not disappoint.

He allowed his eyes to caress the length of Freddie’s spine, over the curve of his hip and around his bottom. His lips pursed in admiration as he exhaled.

Spurred on, Freddie raised one leg, hooking his knee over the edge of the table as he bent a little further.

He caught Jim’s gasp.

With his mission accomplished, Freddie turned his attention to the shot before him. One thing in life Freddie despised was sloppy workmanship. It was no good just looking the part, you had to have the skill too.

He lowered his gaze, selected his pot, and drew back the cue.

The lock clicked firmly into place.

The blinds cracked as they hit the conservatory window sills.

Freddie’s heart stop beating in his chest.

He cast a cautious glance under his arm.

Jim turned from the window, a predatory gaze crossing his face.

Suddenly Freddie was not seeing Jim at all, but a face that had been erased from memory so long ago.

A face that was always accompanied by the click of a lock.

Unexpectedly Freddie’s heart beat resumed.

Too fast, too loud.

He felt hot.

He thought he would vomit.

Aware of his vulnerable pose, he shuffled backwards carefully, quickly, the futility of a boy who knew his fate was sealed.

The outcome of a clicking lock the same time after time after time.

Jim’s presence loomed, his foot fall landing softly but surely on the carpet.

Freddie’s thought was of the kitten.

The need to protect his child from what she might witness.

The things he himself hadn’t been protected from as a child.

Freddie continued to shuffle, he was nearly there, desperately reaching his perfectly pointed toes to the ground, but Jim was faster.

…………………………………………

The hand at his hip was gentle.

The hand helped to ease Freddie free from the table edge.

A soft cheek was pressed to his as he was slowly turned in a tender hold.

Jim pointed, and whispered softly “Look darling”

Ebony was sitting primly at the front of her carrier. Her ears seeming to be too large for her small wispy head, her green eyes brilliant and inquisitive. Her tail wrapped around her paws.

Ebony was on the edge of her seat,

“She’s beautiful, like her father” Jim whispered, as he brushed Freddie’s hair back from his neck, so he could place a soothing kiss there.

Freddie wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck, and pressed soft lips to his.

The face he saw before him was Jim’s.

Only Jim – always Jim.

His hazel eyes soft, tender, and only for Freddie were also half lidded with lust. A lust that rushed through Freddie’s own body, making him hard in an instant.

“I thought you wanted….” Freddie whispered into Jim’s ear before nipping the lobe sharply with his teeth.

Jim pressed the hardness in his jeans to Freddie’s thigh “Oh, I want!” he growled softly. “You just seemed a little….worried sweetheart. We don’t have to.” Jim kissed Freddie with passion “There’s never any pressure.”

The fear had diffused the moment that Freddie had seen the softness in Jim’s eyes.

The love in the lust.

The admiration in the stern.

Freddie tried to be coy, but the smile that sneaked across his face was ravenous.

He suddenly wanted Jim as much as Jim wanted him.

Hungry lips pressed to Jim’s. Shuffling his body close to the edge of the table, closer to Jim.

He gently drew back, enormous eyes gazing softly into Jim’s. “Ebony can’t watch though” he said shyly.

Jim smiled broadly, before laughing loudly.

He lifted Freddie onto the edge of the table, before straightening up to turn the little kitten carrier around.

“That better?” Jim asked, amused. “I hope you are still gonna make those sounds though” Jim growled into Freddie’s neck, his teeth causing Freddie to shiver with anticipation.

“I don’t make any sound” Freddie stated, blushing to the roots of his hair. Something that Jim would never tire of.

“Ooh you do.” Jim caught Freddie’s lip gently between his teeth. “You’re loud and I love it. Really turns me on.”

*******************

“You carry lube in your pocket” Freddie giggled, holding up the bottle.

“I have to with you!” Jim quipped.

“No, over the table. As you were” Jim growled, pushing Freddie over the edge as he feigned surprise.

That’s better, thought Jim as he took a moment to admire his lover’s beautiful body. Leaning over the pool table, satin trousers around his ankles, flushed cheeks, breaths coming high and fast in his chest.

He just had to push inside him, and Freddie would be his.

The heat, the scent, the impassioned cries.

Jim wrapped his hand over Freddie’s, feeling the cut of metal into his skin.

The ring.

The symbol of his unerring devotion to this man.

This man who had been temporarily startled at the thought of being alone with him just moments ago.

Startled was an understatement.

Freddie’s expression had been one of abject terror.

Jim swept a broad palm over Freddie’s satin clad shoulders.

He was wearing the wrong outfit.

Jim adored him in satin.

It was his favourite feeling under the pads of his fingers. Second only to Freddie’s honey buttercup skin, but Jim wanted to touch, wanted to kiss every inch of him, but he couldn’t remove all his clothing here.

He felt the heady days of wanting a quickie slipping away.

It wasn’t enough.

Jim wanted to take his time.

He wanted to cherish him, but more than anything he wanted to see Freddie’s face, to look into his eyes.

He wanted to know that Freddie wanted him too.

Jim tugged gently at the satin. “Does this come off?”

He swept his hands up inside the satin, skimming a hand over the skin of his waist pulling Freddie tightly to him as he nipped at the skin of Freddie’s neck, wanting more – always wanting more.

The skin under his hand raised in goose bumps as Jim caught a nipple.

He exhaled loudly as the fabric restrained his arms, dropping his head on Freddie’s shoulder in resignation.

This wasn’t right.

“No” Jim said bluntly, feeling Freddie stiffen in his arms. “Darling, I’m sorry but this feels all wrong. Let’s not do this here. Let’s see if we can find somewhere private. Somewhere I can ….get you naked.”

Freddie slipped from the edge of the pool table quietly, arranging his clothes.

He hadn’t expected the heat to go out of their relationship this early in the marriage.

Without waiting Jim held open the door “Don’t forget Ebony” he said hurriedly, before sweeping out of the room.

***********************

The rain was torrential.

Summer was coming to an abrupt end, and so had the honeymoon.

Rivulets of water streamed down the windowpane in John’s bedroom as Freddie looked out at the darkening evening sky.

A solitary droplet of water trickled slowly down the pane in Freddie’s eye line. The image reflecting the tear that Freddie felt trickle down his own cheek.

Angrily he dashed it away.

As if he hadn’t received the message loud enough during his youth about giving in to the tears that always seemed to flow the moment something hurt…and it did hurt.

Jim’s comment.

Freddie was just twenty-two years old.

He had been married a little under a month, and already his own husband could resist the urge to fuck him over a pool table at a party.

Not only could he resist in the moment, he could also disappear for an hour to make tea.

Freddie scratched at the skin of his arms, as though he wanted to peel it off and expose the raw flesh underneath.

The new, the clean, the tender.

He was dirty.

His skin crawled with the scent of men.

Dirty, smelly, grimy men that thought it ok to infest Freddie too.

Inside and out.

Jim had realised he was dirty.

That much was obvious.

Soiled goods.

Jim had never shown his disgust before by leaving.

A tiny bell tinkled snatching Freddie’s attention.

Freddie softened at the sight of Ebony’s sweet little face at the door of her enormous pet carrier.

Her tiny pink nose twitched as she detected changes in the atmosphere around her. Her eyes were bright from her nap, and she yawned widely practically folding her little head in two with the ferocity of the action.

“Hello little one” Freddie crouched, his face close to the kitten as she padded his cheek with a tiny soft paw.

“You don’t care kitty do you? You don’t care that this daddy is used up. As long as your bed is soft, and your bowl is full, you love me just as I am don’t you” he whispered lovingly.

Freddie unlocked the door of the carrier, and tenderly scooped the tiny kitten out.

“There has to be something else to it Ebony.” Freddie leaned closer to the kitten’s head, his quick brain retracing the events that had brought him here. “Maybe Daddy couldn’t get it up!” he said humourlessly.

“I just know there’s more. Daddy wouldn’t want me to live with him, he wouldn’t have got you for me if he didn’t still want sex with me” Freddie reasoned.

Freddie poked his thumbnail under the metal of his ring. Jim’s promise to love him always.

He pulled the kitten close to his heart.

“I have to try harder Ebony” Freddie stated decisively. “I love daddy so much. I need to be perfect for him. I need to make him love me too.”

The momentary thought of his empty life without Jim pierced his heart.

“Whatever happens Ebony, you’re going to be ok. I will always love you. I promise.”

**********************

Jim was struck by so much emotion on entering the room that he nearly dropped the tea.

This time, he wished he could paint in oils.

His one hope for old age up until now had always been that he would retain his hair beyond thirty.

Genetically the odds were against him.

Now he just hoped to hang onto his faculties long enough to recall this image until the day he died.

Freddie was naked.

Sitting cross legged on the deep window sill looking out at the storm.

Ebony’s tiny silhouette beside him. Seeming almost to emulate her daddy’s misery. She was certainly sympathising, and as much beauty as the scene gave him, Jim could also feel the pulse of pain.

He knew he had hurt Freddie.

He truly hadn’t meant to, and he cursed himself as he had waited for the butler to bring the tea.

How long did it take to make a pot of tea?!

He almost wished he could have made it himself so that he had something to do with his hands.

They had come so far, but he knew he would never slay Freddie’s demons – especially as they never saw the light of day.

The fear in Freddie’s gaze had wounded him more than he expected, stopping him in his actions.

They weren’t in it for the long haul – this WAS the long haul!

As young as he was.

As wounded as he was.

As incomplete as he was, Freddie was his husband, and Jim would not do him more harm by giving him what he thought he needed in the moment to temporarily lift his spirits.

Jim placed the tea tray down gently, trying not to invade upon Freddie and Ebony’s private moment.

He knew what he had to do.

Silently Jim began to undress.

He quietly pulled up a stool behind Freddie and wrapped his arms around him.

“That’s better” he whispered quietly into his ear “….all skin and fuzz on mine. That’s what I wanted.”

Freddie remained quiet, but at least he didn’t pull away.

Jim ran his palms over Freddie’s shoulders and down his shoulder blades, attempting to massage at the tightly knotted areas of tension.

“I know I hurt you Freddie” Jim whispered.

“You didn’t!” Freddie snapped angrily.

Jim smiled.

He had expected to be rebuffed.

His husband’s defenses as quick as Ebony’s claws.

“I’m not going to contradict you, and I’m not going to argue with you Freddie. I’m beginning to understand how you think” Jim began bravely.

There was truth in his statement, but it didn’t stop fear of rejection from tightening Jim’s chest.

“While I was getting you some tea, you have decided I’m not attracted to you anymore, and you’ve decided to punish me, not because you’re angry with me, but because you are angry with yourself. You have decided that I cannot truly love you because you are basically unlovable.”

Jim stopped.

Bravely he swung Freddie to face him.

“I know Freddie” Jim confirmed sternly.

“I know” he whispered again, knowing it was the closest he would ever come to telling Freddie that what he was really confessing to know was the content of the letters between him and his father.

Freddie still would not meet his eyes.

“I’m not going to ask you over and over again, every time we miscommunicate if you are ok, for you to tell me you are fine, when you’re not. I know you Freddie. Not as much as I want to know you, but I can read your body language.

Jim ran his hands up Freddie’s thighs.

“Right now you’re tense. You’re like Ebony right before she pounces. You want to run but you don’t know where to, because what you really want to do is tell me how hurt you are that I didn’t want to fuck you in the pool room, but you won’t tell me, because for some reason you are afraid to look me in the eye and tell me that I got it wrong.”

Freddie attempted to jump to his feet, but Jim was quicker, gently pushing him back into his seat.

“Only I didn’t get it wrong sweetheart!” he said softly. “Yes, a quickie is fun …if you’re in the mood, but I’m not in that mood. It’s not enough for me anymore darling. I want you. I want all of you. I wanted to do this” Jim leant close into Freddie’s neck, dropping a sweet kiss beneath his ear. “…and this” Jim’s lips met the pulse point at his throat.

“Besides….” Jim snapped up quickly, as Freddie scrambled to rearrange his softened features back to disgruntled “..whenever we have a quickie you embarrass me by telling everyone how sore you are!”

Freddie couldn’t contain the giggle than escaped him.

“So rather than asking if you are ok, and I’m just gonna ask if THIS is ok?” Jim pressed his lips back to the racing pulse at Freddie’s throat.

Jim drew back waiting for the words.

“No? How about here then?” Jim pressed his lips to Freddie’s collarbone, followed by a trail of butterfly light kisses to his heart “…or here?”

Freddie still uttered no words, but Jim caught the blissful flutter of long eyelashes.

“I need a shower first” Freddie muttered.

Jim sank back onto his knees.

“Can you tell me why sweetheart?” he whispered, tracing a thumb over Freddie’s cheekbone. “I’m not trying to tell you when you can shower baby, and I’m sure John wouldn’t mind you using his en suite, but…” he pressed a kiss to Freddie’s inner ankle “….I can still smell my soap on your skin from the shower you had just before we left home. You’re fresh. You don’t need to shower.”

Jim ran his finger around the dainty silver anklet resting lightly on Freddie’s foot. “This is very pretty.”

Freddie flushed.

“So, if it is alright with you I would like to kiss a little more of your fresh soapy skin” Jim made his way up the inside of Freddie’s calf, behind his knee and a little way up his thigh.

“I’m still not hearing….” Jim raised his glance. Freddie’s head was thrown back, a blissful smile played around his lips, soft lashes rested on his cheeks.

Whatever had caused Freddie’s fear was momentarily forgotten.

“Yes!” Freddie cried as Jim scattered kisses along his cock.

Jim pulled back with a smile.

Smug.

The cat that got the cream.

“Just checking” he said with a laugh.

Jim jumped to his feet, scooping Freddie off the windowsill, who wrapped his arms and legs tightly around him

He staggered in his hurry, overwhelmed by the urgency to take Freddie into his mouth, as he laid him down carefully on John’s by now very ruffled bed. His body warm and very aroused.

Tiny teeth like needles sunk into the flesh of Jim’s little toe.

“Yow!” he yelled, hurtling across the bed. “Ebony bit me!!!!”

Freddie feigning ignorance to Jim’s distress, quickly wiggled free of his weight, maneuvering into the perfect position to place hot little kisses to the tip of Jim’s cock, shuffling himself further to take more.

“Aaaaaaah” cried Jim, caught literally between pleasure and pain.

“Sssssshhh” Freddie soothed, blowing hot air along the length, hardening Jim further in an instant. “She didn’t mean it darling” Freddie simpered.

“I’ll give you didn’t mean it” Jim hissed on an impassioned out breath “She’s a minx like her father!”

Jim could speak no more.

He was faced with Freddie’s own arousal so close, as Freddie wasted no time in driving him crazy with his clever tongue.

Jim blew hot air onto Freddie’s stomach, taking delight in the goose bumps that arose there, intensifying as he wrapped a hand around Freddie’s balls massaging carefully.

Jim was mesmerized by the effect giving pleasure was having on Freddie’s body.

Of all the lovers Jim had been with, none made him feel as wanted and as attractive as Freddie did.

Despite his struggle to express himself emotionally, Freddie did not suffer such a challenge physically, and the mumbled groans coming from his mouth just from the act of giving pleasure would be Jim’s undoing.

Jim ran a finger along the underside of Freddie’s thigh, eliciting a strangled cried from his full mouth, before he took Freddie into his own mouth, wasting no further time.

Both men abandoned their thoughts as they moved in time. Each drawing closer to climax, each wanting the other to get there first.

A cheeky finger worked its way into Jim’s body catching him unawares, and leaving him weak.

He had never liked that, not until Freddie came into his life.

The air filled with groans and gasps as both men drew close.

Jim forced his eyes open, staggering under his own pleasured weakness to watch Freddie’s body pulsing beside him. Mirroring the tightening and relaxing of his own muscle.

Freddie gripped Jim’s body tightly as release rushed over him, but Jim couldn’t get enough. He wanted the feeling to go on and on, the pleasure he could give his man, but he was swept away in his own release. Both men holding tightly onto each other, the rain pounding on the window, as they drifted gently back to earth.

***************************

“Yow!” Jim screamed for a second time, picking up the offending kitten with a large hand.

“Ebony just bit my arse!” he raged.

“Awww don’t shout at her darling!” cooed Freddie sweetly, holding out his arms. “Come on little Ebony, come to daddy.”

The tiny kitten hopscotched up the bed, side stepping Freddie’s open arms and raveling herself into his raven hair, which was splayed out on the white satin pillow.

“Maybe she’s hungry” Freddie mused sleepily into Jim’s shoulder. A hand overhead soothing the little kitten. “Did you bring the kitten milk?”

Jim shook his head, but couldn’t help himself smile as the softest brown eyes gazed up at him, all signs of anger, fear and despair having evaporated.

“When she closes her eyes, I can’t see her at all in your hair” Jim chuckled with a kiss to his head. “I thought you were responsible for feeding her sweetheart.”

“I’m not lactating Jim!” Freddie cried astounded, causing Jim to laugh out loud. He exaggerated a roll onto Freddie chest, sucking hard on a nipple.

Freddie squealed “Get off me!” curling into Jim’s arms.

“You’re sleepy aren’t you baby?” Jim muttered into Freddie’s hair. “Come on” he gently tapped Freddie’s thigh “You’re in your bosses bed, you can’t go to sleep. We’re in enough trouble if he ever figures out it was Ebony who damaged his curtains.”

“But it’s alright for us to give each other a blow job on his bed!” Freddie wailed with amusement.

“Did you bring milk for my tea darling?” asked Freddie, grateful for the tea now that he had exerted himself.

Jim nodded heading towards the tray.

“Are there cups and saucers?”

“Would I dare serve your tea in a mug darling?!” Jim asked, an eyebrow raised.

Freddie giggled.

“Please would you give my milk to Ebony on my saucer?” Freddie asked suddenly overcome with shyness.

Jim squeezed him. “Proper mummy now, aren’t you darling” he teased.

************************

Jim examined Freddie’s face from every angle.

There was no way that this man was the same boy he had pursued through the bars of London just six months ago.

The playful colt he had pulled down from the podium.

He was certainly as sexy – if not more so –his growing confidence gave him an allure.

The skittish boy was moving over for the more assured man.

A confidence that allowed him to stay a little longer in a room full of strangers, to smile when he felt eyes upon him – only for a moment longer -but it was a marked difference when viewed through the eyes of love.

Perhaps that was just in Jim’s presence.

Perhaps the eyes of love saw shyness in place of the aloof, saw timidity in place of cockiness, and a shell where another would see a blockade.

At this moment Jim saw the inebriated.

Freddie slouched in an armchair like a Persian prince.

A brightly coloured balloon in one hand, and a glass of wine in the other, held at a perfectly jaunty angle seconds from dripping from the glass onto the carpet.

Freddie’s pocket had been vacated.

Jim grabbed the glass pushing it upright in Freddie’s hand.

“Where’s Ebony darling?” he asked, the panic barely restrained from his tone.

Freddie pointed to the kitten who was nestled on Deaky’s lap purring softly with every stroke to her velvety head.

“I haven’t taken my eyes off her” Freddie slurred.

Jim shuffled Freddie along the chair, snuggling in beside him, carefully balancing his plate of food in the other hand.

He chuckled, nodding to the glass, “Maybe I should be keeping a closer eye on you!”

Roger pulled up a chair, nodding to Jim’s plate. “Got enough food there big guy?!”

Jim smiled and tapped his nose.

A hand suddenly flew to Freddie’s mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Darling! Look at Ebony” he squealed.

Ebony had sunk her teeth into the end of Deaky’s hot dog sausage, and was stealthily pulling the never ending sausage free from his bun.

Deep in conversation, Deaky was yet to notice.

Ebony began to lick the sausage, frustrated that she was not yet old enough to work out how to take a bite, she began to cry loudly.

“She’s gonna be a singer like you!” Jim quipped.

Within seconds Ebony’s cry had everyone’s attention.

“Awwwww, she’s hungry” cooed Deaky, breaking a little of the sausage off and offering it to Ebony.

“She’s gonna choke!” said Brian, reaching out for the sausage, and engendering Ebony’s wrath. The kitten launched herself into Brian’s hair, pulling hard on his curls as her claws became more entangled.

Freddie and Roger were helpless with laughter at Brian flailing around with the kitten on his head. They clutched onto each other, tears streaming down their faces.

Horrified Jim and Deaky went to work, freeing Ebony’s flailing claws, taking chunks of Brian’s hair as she struggled.

“I can tell she’s your fucking cat!” Brian grumbled to Freddie, pulling his fingers through what was left of his hair.

Freddie welcomed the kitten back into his arms as though Ebony had in fact been the victim, snuggling her close to his chest.

Catching Roger’s eye, Jim discreetly titled his plate in Freddie’s direction.

“Try the seafood sweetheart, it’s beautiful” Jim cajoled. “Perhaps share a little salmon with Ebony.”

He also pointed to the cheese. “That cheese is very nice with the bread sticks. Oh, and…” Jim leaned close to Freddie’s ear “…while I was waiting for the tea, the butler told me that the chef uses only Jersey Royal potatoes in his potato salad. It’s delicious, try a little bit.” As if by magic Jim produced a second fork, and winked sanctimoniously at Roger when Freddie took his first bite.

Roger stared openly at his best friend.

The sparkle in his eyes.

The dark circles from nights spent awake vanished.

His hollow cheeks beginning to fill out as he comfortably selected tasty snacks from Jim’s plate.

“Freddie – can I ask you something?” Roger asked awkwardly.

The small group looked at him expectantly, wondering what would come next.

“You can ask, but I might not tell you!” Freddie quipped with a giggle.

“Are you happy?”

A moment of silence fell as the words rang out into the room.

“Right now in this moment - I know life will never be perfect - and all the other stuff” Roger persisted “… but right now are you happy?”

Freddie blushed slightly, then looked from Jim to Ebony, before looking back to Roger.

The blush deepened to a furious pink.

Freddie burrowed his nod in Jim’s shoulder, to a series of ‘aaaaaaaaahhhh’s’ from the group.

Perhaps the bashful child would always remain in there somewhere.

****************************** The End ************************************


	41. Encounters: Shooting Star - Barcelona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse of the future for Freddie, Jim and Ebony.....

**1984 Garden Lodge, Kensington, London.**

Freddie headed for the door of his bedroom.

He walked like a butler with the silver platter balanced on one arm.

On the platter was an enormous baked salmon carved into the shape of a fish.

There was a flickering candle in the centre, and the numbers one and two carved in wax were perfectly placed around the dish.

As he pushed open the door Freddie began to sing in his rich baritone, which like the rest of his body had strengthened with age.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday sweet fluffy Ebony….happy birthday to you!”

The birthday princess was seated on a satin cushion in the centre of Freddie and Jim’s bed.

Thirteen pairs of eyes stared up at him; twelve of them were feline.

Jim lie across the bed. His long legs stretched out as he propped his head up with his elbow, giving Ebony a few gentle strokes to her head.

Ebony purred with contentment surrounded by her brood.

Her kittens were disciplining her grand kittens. A paw here, a lick there.

In total there were ten, and the aptly named Ivory. A tiny white kitten who had reminded Jim so much of Ebony that he couldn’t resist bringing her home for Freddie.

Ivory was the youngest at just 4 months old.

“Here you go my darling. Get your whiskers around that” Freddie cooed, laying the platter in front of Ebony.

The smallest kittens bounced over to the platter, the smell delicious enough to make them forget their manners.

Freddie flopped onto the bed, carving his way between Ebony and Jim, and snuggling up close to his husband.

“I can’t believe she’s so big darling! I’m so proud of her” he said with delight.

“She’s a credit to you alright!” Jim quipped “She’s had a boy in every bush!”

Freddie punched Jim lovingly, reaching for his pack of cigarettes.

“She likes sex darling. It’s perfectly healthy!”

“We’re having them spayed” said Jim firmly. Something he had been casually threatening for some time. “Do you know how many litters an unneutered cat can have Freddie?! Besides, the vet said there were many health benefits to having them spayed.”

“Oh no darling!” Freddie groaned, his eyes sad and round. “Not the little ones. You wouldn’t deny me Ebony’s great grand kittens would you?”

At that moment a tiny kitten nuzzled Jim’s hand with her soft head before flopping onto her back, begging for her tummy to be rubbed.

Jim rolled his eyes.

The kittens turned him to mush, and he couldn’t deny Freddie anything either.

“Ok” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “Not the little ones, but the rest of them. The vet said he can come to the house and assess them when he visits the fish. How many cats do you need Freddie?!”

“You promised me 100 babies!” Freddie whined haughtily, the vision of mistreated.

Jim chuckled “No, I’m sure you heard me incorrectly…you were delirious that night!”

Freddie fell into a comfortable silence surrounded by his kittens.

“Did you book your appointment at the hospital?” Jim nuzzled his hair.

Freddie shook his head. His attention on Ebony.

“Freddie you have cancelled as many appointments as you own kittens. You need to do it before we leave for Barcelona. It’s just a formality darling. The tour organisers insist on health insurance these days, you know how it is when there are large sums of money involved.”

“I don’t like doctors” Freddie mumbled.

“I know that darling, and I will hold your hand every step of the way, but you need to have the test. I promise, you will feel better once it’s done.”

“So many of our friends darling….” his sentence fell away into a well of sadness.

“Freddie…you do feel alright don’t you?” Jim asked, a frisson of alarm prickling the back of his neck.

Freddie nodded, squeezing Jim’s arm in silent reassurance.

“Then it is just a formality, but to put it behind us, we need to do it….alright? Tomorrow, before we leave for Barcelona.”

“That’s another thing darling…….” Freddie took a deep breath. “…I’m still not comfortable with these solo projects. I love them! I’ve worked so hard, and I’ve been so far out of my sphere, it’s been refreshing, but I feel like I’m holding Queen at arm’s length. We’ve never been apart like this! Roger, and Brian, and Deaky, they have been my family since I moved to London, but now that I’m not working with them I don’t feel like I can just pop round like I used to. They have wives…and children!”

“So do you sweetheart.” Jim held the tiniest black kitten to Freddie’s face for a kiss to the sweetest little pink nose. “The boys have their own projects too. Roger’s voice is amazing on the latest The Cross single, and Brian’s doing Star Fleet. I saw Deaky last week, and he wants to do something with Disney. Your boys are doing great Freddie, and so are you. Everybody is free to follow their own interests. It’s good for you all. Besides, you have the Magic tour to start planning when we get back from Barcelona.”

Glee spread from ear to ear, as Freddie’s eyes sparkled. “I can’t wait darling! Huge crowds again like the old days. It’s like putting on some comfortable clothes” Freddie giggled.

Jim tucked a lock of hair behind Freddie’s ear. “You’re the only person I know who can describe performing in front of a crowd of 100,000 people as comfortable clothing!”

“I need to get the artwork over to the studio for the Mr Bad Guy album, then prepare for Barcelona. My God Jim, I’m so scared!” Freddie confessed with ease. “Montserrat Caballé!” He gripped Jim’s forearm. “….and she wants to sing with ME!”

**************************

Jim stood in the doorway for a few transfixed moments.

He hadn’t heard the melody before.

It was complex, melancholy and intense.

His husband’s usually nimble fingers tripped awkwardly over the notes, before stopping abruptly and switching direction.

For a moment Jim was transported back to the mornings spent on the sofa beside Freddie, before they were lovers.

The mornings he provided a shoulder for Freddie to lean on while he scribbled complicated notes that he didn’t yet understand in his songbook. His method of working through the meaning of yet another lover’s betrayal.

Jim was warmed to see Freddie’s old blanket draped around his shoulders.

He didn’t see the blanket much these days.

Freddie’s bedding had to be coordinated in colour, and of the highest thread count, but Jim was relieved that Freddie was trying to keep himself warm.

His husband had the propensity to disappear into his emotions so completely that he frequently abandoned his physical needs.

A fire blazed in the hearth. Just one of the many things Jim had to thank Phoebe for. Small when compared with bringing Freddie home to him safely.

“Can’t sleep huh?” Jim asked with a smile, approaching the piano slowly.

Freddie stopped playing abruptly, and clasped his hands around his knees.

He couldn’t meet Jim’s gaze.

“What is it sweetheart?” Jim asked gently, crouching beside Freddie.

“I hate hospitals” Freddie mumbled into his hands, still unable to meet his husband’s concerned gaze.

So, it was the test that was keeping Freddie awake.

“Even after all that time you spent in hospital when you hurt your knee on the last tour?” Jim inquired.

Freddie rolled his eyes. “My God darling, I was out of my mind with the pain. I thought the doctor was Brian Blessed!”

“Well you did have Flash Gordon on your mind” Jim quipped.

Freddie jumped to his feet before slouching onto the piano.

Jim took his place on the stool, taking Freddie’s hands in his.

“Come on darling, please be honest with me. Is it really about the hospital? It is just a few seconds you know. I won’t leave your side.”

Freddie raised his eyes, meeting Jim’s for the first time. “Is it? Is it really darling? It’s a life sentence. So many of our friends…..” Freddie’s words dropped away, still unable to finish that sentence.

“There were a lot of men Jim” he whispered. A single tear spilling from the corner of his eye.

“The world was so different then, so simple you know. You got pissed, you got stoned, you got fucked. Nobody ever thought further than the next fuck. It was all a game. We felt…safe…. free. It was our world. Bars like Heaven and the Tavern. They protected us. We could do anything. We were fearless.”

Jim drew a deep breath.

“Sweetheart if I ask you a question will you tell me the truth?” he asked carefully.

Freddie looked up at him, momentarily dazing him with sincerity. “I’ll do my best darling.”

“Has there been anyone else…” Jim asked warily “…since you have been with me?”

Silence.

Freddie shook his head slowly, and squeezed Jim’s hand. “No darling. Only you.”

“What about when…..you were away?”

Freddie physically shuddered.

“No, darling. I couldn’t bear men to touch me. I didn’t want … them.”

“Then I have to confess something to you” Jim continued, as he watched the colour bleach from Freddie’s face.

He didn’t like surprises.

“I got tested today sweetheart. I don’t have HIV” Jim confirmed softly.

Further silence.

Freddie slid down the piano as though his legs could no longer support his weight, throwing his arms around Jim with relief.

“Oh darling! I’m so relieved” he cried. “That means everything to me, that you’re strong and healthy, but we said we would go together, why did you go through all that alone darling? I wanted to be there for you?” Freddie chastised.

“To tell you the truth sweetheart, I wasn’t sure how you would cope. With the test. With the results. I’m not like you Freddie. If we were positive I would need some time alone to come to terms with my own anger, my own grief. I didn’t want you to see that. I couldn’t put you through that….feeling like I had abandoned your needs, abandoned you! I made my choice, and I went through with it.”

“But you went through that alone dear. I feel terrible. I…..”

“Don’t you see?” Jim interrupted. “If I’m negative, you must be too” Jim allowed a slow smile to light up his face.

“But…we don’t know that darling. You might just ….be immune. What about ….before” Freddie cleared his throat “….before I left India.”

Jim’s heart dropped like a lead balloon. So that is what had been eating away at him.

“Sweetheart, that was a very long time ago. I don’t think this virus was even around then” he exclaimed, not really sure if that was true.

He still felt the compulsion to babble whenever the subject of Freddie’s time in India came up.

Ever since he had stupidly confessed that he had read Freddie’s father’s letters.

Jim had hoped it would cement the trust between himself and Freddie, but sometime later he had to admit that it was more about easing his own troubled conscience.

A selfish act that had sent Freddie spiraling downwards into the pits of despair.

They had never talked about it, not completely, and Jim often wondered if Freddie had repressed the memory entirely.

Jim had suffered too.

Berating himself every night of the dark year, fearing their relationship would not survive, not realising that things were only set to get worse.

Night after night being awoken by screams and held at arm’s length. No longer trusted to provide the comfort that Freddie so badly needed.

The cold sweats, followed closely by episodes of reliving events that seemed to take Freddie away from him entirely.

The cycle of cigarettes and vodka.

The cocaine fuelled nights in Germany. Club after club, fading into nothingness in the early hours when his body could no longer keep him conscious.

The revolving door of fair weather friends. Those who used him for access to the rock star lifestyle, and to pick up the tab.

Freddie had left Jim behind.

No longer trusted.

No longer wanted.

Thankfully Freddie had taken one friend with him.

One friend who had trawled the bars beside him, arranging hotels and booking restaurants.

One friend who had picked him up - bodily sometimes - at the end of the night, shielding him from harm while he rested, bathing cuts and bruises, cooling fevers, and cleaning up vomit.

Peter Freestone.

It had been Phoebe who had reported back to Jim.

Feeding him tit bits of information - not enough to be deemed disloyal, but sometimes too much for Jim to bear. The grapevine had at least flowed two ways, and Jim was able to make small suggestions; things that would bring Freddie comfort - snacks he couldn’t resist, his favourite sweater, his favourite socks, tales of Ebony.

One day Phoebe had disappeared too.

He had received a call from Freddie’s sound engineer in Germany to say that Freddie had broken down. That he had awoken scared and alone in a dumpster behind the bar, with no memory of how he had got there.

During the time that both men were missing, Jim began to question his own reasons for living.

One night shortly after, Jim was awoken in the small dark hours.

A soft cheek was pressed to his.

An arm wrapped around his waist.

A leg around his hip.

Jim had fallen into the deepest sleep he’d had for months.

He awoke late in the morning, angry with himself for not noticing that Ebony had left the room. Freddie liked to know where every member of the household was at all times, and Jim had taken charge in his husband’s absence.

He found Ebony in the kitchen, purring contentedly in her daddy’s lap.

Freddie was stuffing down Joe’s homemade pancakes like he hadn’t eaten for months.

Perhaps he hadn’t.

“Baby…” Jim began softly “I think you feel sick about that whole period of your life, but feeling sick doesn’t make it so. It is highly…so highly unlikely that the virus was even around then. You’re strong, you’re healthy. HIV presents itself much faster than that.”

Freddie nodded, and Jim felt relief in his chest that Freddie believed him. That he had been able to reach the part of him that kept concerns hidden away from those he loved.

“Tomorrow” Jim dictated, his forehead pressed to Freddie’s. “You’ll have the test tomorrow. Then we’ll know.”

Freddie nodded.

This time he would concede.

With an exaggerated groan, Jim lifted Freddie onto the piano top.

“That’s getting harder” he laughed.

“You cheeky bastard” Freddie spat, but he was all smiles. The brightest Jim had seen him smile for a while. “You should talk!” he wailed, squeezing the extra flesh that had appeared around Jim’s waistline.

“It’s Joe!” Jim laughed. “He feeds me too well, and if you would just finish your meals, me and the cats would have a fighting chance of maintaining a healthy weight!”

Freddie laughed, but the fire was in his eyes. He ran his fingers around the waistband of Jim’s shorts, pushing his hands inside.

“I don’t want you to lose weight” he purred, pushing his body towards Jim and kissing him hard. “I like my men big and strong.”

Jim growled, playfully biting Freddie’s lip. “You told me that the night we met.”

**********************

The fire crackled as a blazing log tumbled onto the stone hearth.

The sudden amber glow outlined his features, and just for a second the boy was in place of the man.

The sassy little minx that had captured Jim’s heart, and snared his body to react in the way it was doing now.

Freddie lie on the faux fur rug.

His blanket barely covering his modesty, warding off the late summer chill. He looked miles away, with his raven head resting on his elbow, but his gaze was soft and his features relaxed.

He smiled softly as Jim laid down beside him, amusement sparkling in his eyes at the obvious bulge in Jim’s shorts.

“You make it very difficult for me to ravage you when you’re looking at me as softly as one of Ebony’s kittens” Jim whispered, brushing Freddie’s hair from his cheek, and capturing his lips in a heart melting kiss.

Freddie’s expression was suddenly one of mischief as he rolled onto his hands and knees. The blanket slipping silently to the rug to reveal his nakedness, bottom pushed high into the air.

“Oh yeah!” Jim whooped with a laugh, springing to his knees and uncapping the lube bottle.

Freddie giggled “Sssssssh, you’ll have the whole household down here in a moment.”

“I hope by now they have learnt their lesson” Jim laughed “…especially Phoebe!”

Freddie, overcome by giggles, buried his face in his hands, his laughter ending on a gasp as Jim pushed a lubed finger into him.

“Aaaaaaaah darling!” he gasped, fighting with heavy eyelids “Give a man some…….” Freddie’s words were lost on a breathe as Jim found his weak spot “…..warning. Ahhhhh!” he gasped again as Jim padded at the walls, softening his grip, as Freddie curled his fingers into the rug.

Jim scattered kisses over Freddie’s buttocks, almost a tickle, followed by a trickle of cold oil making him squeal.

The capped lube bottle hit the rug beside Freddie’s head, a signal of Jim’s intent.

“You’re mine baby” Jim growled softly, pushing another finger into Freddie, who dropped his head back into his hands breathing sharply as he allowed the intensity of the sudden intrusion to roll over him.

He glanced between his knees, to see Jim, a hand firmly around his own cock, and groaned loudly at the sight.

Abruptly Jim withdrew causing Freddie to yelp. His faced appeared over Freddie’s shoulder as he enveloped him in the warmth of his body.

“What was that sweetheart? Did you say you wanted more?” he teased, nipping Freddie’s ear sharply with his teeth, as he entered him swiftly.

Freddie cried out as he felt himself gripped, his whole body unable to move with the intensity of the sensations rolling up his spine and down his legs.

“Sorry what darling?” Jim teased as he withdrew, and plunged back into him.

Freddie howled.

His trembling arms barely able to hold himself up, as he filled with sensation time and time again as Jim possessed him, taking any resolve to hold out, to tease, to make him wait.

The kisses to his neck and shoulders were intermittent with nips, rising blood to his already over sensitive skin. Words of love, of lust, of passion barely registering as his mind gave over to the more urgent cries of his body.

“I want more” he heard himself cry as his sweet spot was pounded in the rhythm that could only belong to his husband.

Freddie felt himself arch his back to take more, a mark of the strengthening of his own body with time.

The power of his husband’s body still overriding in the muscle brushing his back. Strong shoulders arched over him, powerful thighs gripped him, and he felt as helpless as the delicate boy he had been the first time he made love with this man.

Jim growled as pleasure began to build in his own body. He intensified the passion and the pace of his strokes as Freddie’s arms gave way beneath him, allowing his cheek to be cushioned by the deep pile of the opulent rug.

“No!” he cried in frustration, pushing back hard towards Jim, taking a further slam into his body, as words became moot.

A large hand swept down his chest towards the clenched muscle of his stomach, fingers silky from the oil as Jim wrapped them around his cock, almost painful with turgidity.

“No!” Freddie cried once more as Jim’s snatched his last remaining power, both with his hips and his hand.

“No….too soon…I can’t ….Jim I can’t!” Freddie cried as release overtook him, and his legs finally gave up too.

Jim continued, striving towards his ultimate goal, holding his weight off Freddie’s back as he thrust into waves of incredible tightness, causing Freddie to cry out weakly. His own final wail of satisfaction as he collapsed onto his lover holding him tightly as the last waves subsided on whispered claims of love.

*******************

The brink of sleep claimed Freddie almost immediately.

The exhausted pang of muscle, the slow wave of satisfaction covering his body like his blanket, Jim’s fingers in his hair, smoothing as sure and as rhythmically as the crackling of the log, and ticking of the grandfather clock.

“It still works baby doesn’t it?” Jim whispered, pulling the blanket up around them. “A good pounding eases your mind.”

Freddie reached for Jim’s hand, squeezing it lazily.

“Are you going to sleep here?” Jim chuckled.

Freddie nodded. “If I go to bed, I will stare at the ceiling again. Here I’m cosy” he mumbled.

“What will Joe and Phoebe say when they find us in the morning?” Jim teased, pressing his lips to Freddie’s cheek.

“I don’t care!” Freddie wailed surprisingly loudly for a spent man. “This is my castle, and I’ll sleep wherever I like.”

*******************

“Farrokh Bulsara?” The slight nurse popped her head around the door.

This was already happening to someone else.

“I’ve got your results, I’ll be five minutes.”

The door was closed again and Freddie flopped back helplessly into his plastic chair, the resounding adrenaline causing his knees to knock.

“Nearly there sweetheart” Jim soothed, as he squeezed Freddie’s hand.

Unable to sit still any longer, Freddie leapt to his feet before dropping in front of Jim and clasped his hand. “Jim darling, if I’ve got this disease you have to forget about me. Leave me, get on with your life. Be happy.”

Jim pulled Freddie back into his chair.

“I will do no such thing!” he insisted. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. If the test is positive we will make the next available appointment with Doctor Atkinson to discuss your treatment” said Jim resolutely.

“There is no cure darling” Freddie said sadly.

“I know that sweetheart, but there may be soon, and there are things we can do - experimental drugs, anti-virals that will….help.”

Freddie returned to jiggling his knee.

“Besides, stop preparing for a positive test result Freddie. We’ll get the results and from there we’ll decide what to do – together – okay?”

The door opened.

Freddie jumped out of his skin

“Right this way Mr Bulsara.”

Freddie couldn’t convince his legs to make him stand.

*******************

The wind whipped through the hanger, amplifying the sound of the propellers to an almost intolerable pitch.

Jim wrestled with the bags. Placing them on the steps of the private jet, as he shuffled his rucksack back up onto his shoulder.

Freddie appeared in the doorway of the plane.

He looked like a rainbow at its brightest with skin tight red jeans, a yellow t-shirt, and a jacket slung casually over one shoulder.

The sun reflected off his aviator sunglasses, it glanced off the champagne flute in his other hand, amplifying the sparkle like a prism.

“Come on darling” he cried enthusiastically. “We can’t keep Montsy waiting… and we’ve got the rest of our lives to lead!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing Encounters a whole year ago, I had never written anything before, and had no idea what was happening to me! It was like the story was being told to me, and I had to send all four members of Queen to their own corners of my head when they started to fight! I couldn’t get their words down quickly enough. Some of the words I even had to google!  
Through the unfolding of the tale and the unerring patience of the kind and supportive friends I have made in the fandom, I came to see that Encounters was a tale of wish fulfillment. A wish that not only had Freddie not contracted such a horrific disease, but that the smaller, perhaps lesser known blows in his life could have been softened too – that he had found a true and lasting love earlier, that there was more kindness in his life than bullying, that his adoring parents had been present as he grew.   
I hope Encounters created that world for him.  
I hope you enjoy this epilogue, but it is not goodbye. I have one or two tales from our favourite boys – and Ebony- still to be told 😊  
So, I just want to say thank you so much for following Encounters and Shooting Stars. For your lovely comments and beautiful drawings, and for those of you that keep me sane on a daily basis – I don’t deserve you! Anyway, this is for you xx


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